Snape's daughter
by Ranekaera
Summary: Yes I changed the title, it was too long.A taller than average first year is here, and her name is... Snape! There's more to her than meets the eye... NEWLY UPDATED, CHAPTER 12 IS UP! COMPLETED, THERE WILL BE A SEQUEL! Please R&R!
1. New year, new student

Not as if I need to add another HP fanfic to this site, with so many already being here. This one starts out at the beginning of the sixth year, when everyone is alreaady at Hogwarts. There's a new Slytherin in town...

Enjoy.

p.s. I do not own any of J.K. Rowling's characters, and if my text sounds a bit like the book, please don't sue me, I'm only trying to get to the point. It wouldn't make sense if I skipped the happenings in book 6.

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They had all just arrived, and the Great Hall looked a treat. Harry and Ron were gratefull to get out of the rain, and they quickly joined their fellow Gryffindors at the Gryffindor table.

They were just in time for the sorting. Professor McGonagall led a long line of scared looking first years, which happened to include one taller than most. Harry caught a glimpse of her as she walked by; from what Harry could see from her profile, she had inky, blue-black hair, pale skin and dark eyes, which were sweeping the great hall.

"That's the biggest first year I've ever seen," remarked Ron, who had also noticed the larger-than-normal first year.

"I know what you mean." agreed Harry. He watched as the girl, along with her fellow first years, stopped and formed a line around the sorting hat. As usual, the hat was placed on the head of every first year, and they were sorted into their respective houses.

"Maybe it's a teacher," suggested Hermione. This was unhelpful, thought Harry; all the teachers were present at the staff table and therefor accounted for.Hermione bit her lip once Harry pointed this out to her, and she said nothing more until the start-of-term feast was over.

"When I call your name, you will each come up one by one and place the sorting hat on your head, and it will tell you w here you belong" said McGonagall. (For copyright reassons, the author just really wants to get to the point of this story, so she got lazy and jumped to the point).

"Snape-Mahar, Saoirse!" called McGonagall.

The hall went silent, and Harry, Ron and Hermione gasped and automatically looked up at Snape. He wore the usual expression of loathing on his face, but his features were oddly softened when he watched the larger-than-most first year approach the stool. The girl, in turn looked at Snape, and sat on the stool.

"D'you think they're related?" asked Ron.

"I dunno," said Harry. He would never admit it, but the girl was quite a bit prettier than Snape.He seriously doubted they were related, and if they were, it must not be very close.

The girl's large, slightly tilted eyes swept the hall once more before the hat settled over her head. Harry noticed that her eyes were mismatched; what he had at first mistaken for dark eyes, was in facxt one dark, and one light. He had only seen the dark one because he had been looking at her from the side.

It seemed to take forever to decide, but then the hat shouted,

"SLYTHERIN!"

The Slytherin table errupted in cheers, and Snape, Harry noticed, who usualy clapped the longest for new Slytherin's, did not clap for the girl at all.

She sat apart from the rest of her fellow classmates and merely sat looking bored and unaffected, but very gorgeously so, in Harry's opinion, whether she was or wasn't related to his least favorite teacher.

Professor Dumbledore stood up and addressed the hall. Ron, as usual, grabbed his utensils and prepared to eat, not taking in a word of Dumbledore's speech.

Not until they got the worst news ever.

"Professor Slughorn will be taking his old position of Potions Master, while Professor Snape will be taking Defense Against the Dark Arts." Dumbledore announced.

This announcement was met with a lot of mutinous mutterings in the hall, and Dumbledore clapped his hands for silence.

"_Potions?"_ Hermione hissed.

"I thought you said he was teaching Defense Against the Dark Arts!" Ron accused.

"I thought he was!" said Harry.

There was a lot of clapping at the Slytherin table at this announcement. Snape aknowledged it with a simple bow of his greasy head

The feast started, they ate, and when they went to bed, Harry had quite foirgotten the mysteriusly tall first year.


	2. Saoirse Snape Mahar

This one is from Saoirse's POV. Her name is pronounced "Seer-sha" by the way. It's Gaelic Irish, and I can't remember what it means.

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Saoirse looked around her dormitory, still not believing that after all these years of hearing about Hogwarts, she was finally here. If Dumbledore hadn't intervened, he father might not have let her come.

She walked over to the window. It was raining and the lake down below shimmered in the moonlight.

Night was her favorite time of day.

The sapphire on her class ring gleamed in the night, and she remembered getting it in her muggle high school, her senior year. It hadn't fit, and the ring person had had to resize it, so she hadn't gotten it until the week after everyone else got theirs. She was 18, probably the oldest first year in the history of the entire school.

She only had Dumbledore to thank for it.

She had been practicing with her band in her step-father's garage, when her father had Apparated right there. Dumbledore soon followed. It had all happened so fast, that she still wasn't sure how to organize it in her mind.

She had put down her guitar, of that she was sure. Snape and Dumbledore had been arguiing in civil tones, something unheard of in her childhood, and at first she hadn't recognized her biological father. How had he gotten so _old?_

"Saoirse, it is my wish that you come to Hogwarts Scool of Witchcraft and Wizardry." Dumbledore had said gently, his light blue eyes sparkling.

"Um... I'm a little old... besides... _he_ never cared before," she said, staring at her father, who glared daggers at Dumbledore's back.

"Your father didn't want you to come back precisely for the reason that you have just stated. Would you like to come or not?" he had asked gently.

"Yeah, I'd love to...but I don't have any wizard money," she had said. At this, her father rolled his eyes, and tossed her a heavy drawstring back that jangled.

"I will be funding your years at the school. You are my... daughter," he said with a sneer. She wasn't sure what to make of him yet; it had been nearly 9 years since she had last seen him or spent any significant ammount of time with him.

"Sure...dad..."she trailed off, totally at a loss. Dumbledore had waved a wand at the members of her band, their gaze had gone out of focus, and they both disapparated.

Now she sat at Hogwarts in her new dormitory, staring out at the lake.

"Mow!" her new cat meowed. It was a female with mismatched eyes like her, named Calico, because of her multicolored patchy fur that was mostly black. She was no bigger than a kitten but she was fully grown.

Saoirse scratched behind her ears and watched as a snowy owl soared past the window like a ghost.

She sighed and thought about her father. She couldn't remember much; he hadn't been there for her as a child. She hadn't seen him at all since she was eight, and she had told herself all these years that it was because he didn't know he had a daughter. At eight years old, she learned what must be the truth; He had known and was only seeing her then because it was mandatory. But she never quite gave up on him... she had always had a problem with seeing the best in everyone, no matter what they had done.

"Maow," her cat said again. Saoirse guessed she was hungry. She got up, straightened her long nightshirt out and reched into her trunk and dug out a can of tuna she'd brought with her. She opened it by magic and set it on the windowsill.

That was another thing. Her magical abilities. She had honed them since she was a child, able to do things any qualified wizard could with a wand... howeever, she could levitate things by thinking about it, and throw people across the room by pointing at them. She learned to be an Animagus at an early age. A white Bengal tiger. She had a wand now. Dragon heartstring and cherry. She knew it was wierd, because all witches and wizards used them, but she couldn't hel pfeeling foolish whenever she waved it around.

Climbing into bed, she closed her eyes, and tried to sleep.


	3. Potions master for the day

Thanks for all those who reviewed so far, and keep'em coming, it convinces me to write more... (wink wink nudge nudge) Saoirse means "freedom" in Gaelic Irish, btw.

Snape's POV

I own nothing except my characters, please don't sue me. I'm funny

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Snape tossed and turned in his own bed that night. He couldn't sleep.

He sat up in bed, straightened out his gray nightshirt, and stared out the grimy window in his office. His "bedroom" was hidden behind a curtain in his office. He thought about his daughter.

She looked too much like him for comfort, with her mother's beauty. Her mother's heart-shape face. His facial expressions and cynicism. His sarcasm. Her own outlook on life. Her own talent in music. She had her mother's voice and his quiet tones. His hair, although it was thicker and more wavy. She even had his pale skin tone, although hers was more flawless.

There was no denying that she was his offspring, and the staff and student would know right away. His reputation was all but ruined unless he could convince her to join him. But where did he stand really? He hadn't had any contact with his fellow death eaters since before the start of term, when Narcissa and Bellatrix had visited him at his home in Sp- end.

He shook his head, his hair in his face, and he irritably jerked it out of the way with a nod of his head.

He stared at the moon as he remembered her mother... his Loren. Her dark auburn hair... her gray-blue eyes... her voice... He shook his head again, as if by shaking it, he could rid himself of these memories. She was gone to him, he knew that. Thinking about her wouldn't bring her back or change her mind.

Nearly 19 years ago, when he had been a young, bumbling, gangly 17-year old, he had met the most wonderful woman, who was four years his elder. It never mattered to him, though. She had been, there was no other word for it, divine. About his height, perhaps a bit shorter, her auburn hair like dying embers, her gray blue eyes that spoke volumes of sadness, her acne-scarred skin tanned by hours in the sun... not many found her pretty, but Snape had thought her an angel.

She was the only one... He had not slept with anyone since, nor would he ever. Vaguely, he wondered what she was like now and what she did for a living, then decided he coud just ask his daughter.

Sighing, he lay back down and tried once again to sleep.

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The next morning's first potions lesson included his three least favorite students; Potter, Weasley, and Granger. It was the first class Slughorn had to teach, and he was ill from a bad batch of his favorite crystalized pineapples, so Snape had agreed to take his until-recently usual post.

It also included his daughter, and when he walked into the class, his robes billowing behind him, he thought she was watching him with those mismatched eyes of hers. One of which he recognized very well; he saw it whenever he looked in a mirror.

"You should all be ready, by now, for the more difficult potions that will appear in your final exams. Your instructions are on the board. You know what to do. No talking, if you don't mind," he said.

He watched as the class busied themselves with gethering their ingredients, weighing them, and flipping idly through their books. He thought he recognized the one Potter was using, but he couldn't be sure.

He watched his daughter most of all. It was uncanny, how much she looked like him, and at times, he would see her mother showing through. She was an odd mix of both of them. She had already added the second line of ingredients to her cauldron, and he was pleased to see, upon passing, that her Draught of Peace was exactly where it should be. It seemed she had acquired his aptitude for potions as well, though he didn't know which side the liking for putting holes in her body had come from. She had a ring through her eyebrow and a spike protruding from below her lower lip. There was nothing against piercings in the school rulebook, because no sensible wizard would do such a thing. He left her alone for it.

"You have half an hour left in which to let your potions simmer." he informed the class.

His daughter had been letting hers simmer for the past five minutes. She sat back on her chair, looking bored.

Snape went to his desk and sat down, his grade book out and open to today's date.

"Time's up. Scoop some of your potion in a flask, cork it, and bring it up to my desk for grading. You may go," he said out loud. He watched while the class did as he instructed, and was surprised to see that Potter's potion looked as it should. He hadn't been muttering at him from the corner of his mouth this lesson. It had rather lost its fun.

His daughter handed hers to him, looking him straight in the eye, and he thought he caught a glimmer of though from her using Legilimency. Whatever it was, involved two people in black robes walking. He nodded curtly at her and watched as she walked out of the room with a loping, lazy stride. She wanted to walk with him during break.

He thought he could do that.

It wasn't that he never wanted her, or that he didn't love her as a daughter. He did, insofar as he knew the emotion. She reminded him of Loren immedietely, and of him a few minutes after seeng her. The shock had been immense. He hadn't known he'd had children until both of them were nearly three years old.

He knew he had a son, Saoirse's twin, but if he remembered correctly, he had been killed when he was fifteen or sixteen. He knew better not to mention him; when he had Apparated into the middle of her band session, he had asked her about him. She had glared at him at the mention of his name and not said a thing, but he had caught an image of a casket in her mind's eye, and knew her twin to be dead, so he was sure she still mourned him.

The bell rang and Snape sighed and began pulling flasks of Draught of Peace towards him to begin grading.

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It was break, and Snape was in the courtyard, looking for Saoirse, when he spotted her aways away, surropunded by a group of other students. He heard her shouting and ran to see what the trouble was. He smelled a fight from a mile away.

The other students watching formed a ring around Saoirse and two little girls whom he recognized as second years. She was in the midst of a shouting match with an older boy, a seventh year, and by the looks of it, she was winning. The seventh year was looking at her as if she were his mother, and he shrank back with a mutterd apology.

He watched, rather than interfere, as Saoirse pattted the two little girls on the heads and ran her hands over their scratched arms from where the boy had evidently pushed them. An odd golden light emenated from beneath her hands (like Leo's in TNT'S "Charmed" I love that show) and the scratches disappeared. The two girls thanked her and the ran off. The ring of kids slowly disappeared, until all that were left was Snape and his daughter.

"Sorry. I didn't mean to get carried away," she muttered, still glaring in the direction of the older boy. She looked remarkable like him as she glared, he thought, amused.

"You handled him rather well, I thought. You wanted to walk with me?" he questioned.

"Yeah... I uh... wanted to ask you some things..." she said, carefully avoidng his face.

"You wondered, perhaps, why I was never there for you or your brother?" he guessed.

"...Yeah." she said.

"I met your mother when I was at school here, on a Hogsmeade trip in October. She was on exchange to Hogwarts from the States," he began, but she interrupted him.

"She's a _witch_?!" she exclaimed, eyes wide.

Snape raised an eyebrow, another trait she had picked up from him, and honed to perfection, he'd noticed.

"Certainly, although I assume she hid them from nearly everybody," he said.

"I never knew... she's always done everything like a muggle, I just assumed..." she trailed off.

"The reason I left was because I was a death eater. I was forced to have no interest," he explained.\

"How do I know you're not lying like you obviously did to Dumbledore. I know that's the reason you teach her," she accused. Snape looked the other way and wiped at his chin, thinking.

"Because I'm not lying. Look," he offered, and he placed her hands on the side of his head before she could react. He brought images to his mind, and stood there as she searched them. It was a more personal form of Occlumency. The Legilimens could only see the images the Occlumens put forth, but he could not lie; these were his memories, after all, not thoughts.

She saw the look on his face as he discovered that he had children. The sadness he'd felt when he learned that he was not allowed to care for them. Voldemort's orders that all their children might be required as necessary sacrifices to achieve their goals. Snape's indecision, and finally, his decision that he couldn't stand by Voldemort, at least not really. His tearfull goodbye to Loren, her mother, as he gently touched his children's foreheads, his only goodbye to them.

He broke contact, and was surprised to see that Saoirse was crying silently, her eyes not yet red and puffy, the tears pouring down her cheeks. She truly was his and Loren's child, there was no doubt about it.

"Why did mom never tell me?" she asked, finally. He voice did not waver, but was firm. Her tears were only for his memories, he realised, not for her loss. It seemed she had cried over the loss of a proper father years ago.

"I have no idea. Speaking of her... what is she like now? What did she do after I was forced to leave?" he asked.

Saoirse looked thoughtful for a moment.

"She's nowhere near as small as she used to be. I think she weighs about 300 pounds, last she checked, but she's losing again. I think she got really depressed after you... y'know, left," she said.

He tried to imagine Loren as an overweight American, but could not.

"She still has the red hair, but she dies it now because she has a lot of grayss. Her rosasia is worse." she replied as they walked. (A.N.:it's a skin affliction, where the blood vessels are closer to the skin than normal, creating a permanent rosy color, it's very ugly)

They were heading towards the Quidditch pitch, and Snape very subtly changed their direction.

"What does she do for work?" he asked.

"She's a contruction worker for a bulldozer company called WDG," she replied with a sarcastic laugh.

"What's so funny?" he asked.

"You know how silly I'll feel if someone else here asks me what my mother does, and I tell them she works for a construction crew?" she laughed again. It was not a nice laugh, filled with years of neglect and cruelty, he thought. He recognized that laugh. It was his own, and his sadness for both their losses became deeper. She had gone through exactly the sort of thing he had as a teenager.

It was obvious that she delt with it better. She was a more forecefull personality than either of her parents.

"It's getting closer to class time," she remarked, looking a her watch. It had bones for hands and skulls for numbers. Snape wondered where she'd gotten it.

"I know. What class do you have next?" he asked.

" Transfiguration, and then Defense Against the Dark Arts. Like I need it..." she mutterd the last part.

"What makes you say that?" he asked, cuirious.

She stopped walking and looked him straight in the eyes. She was almopst as tall as he was.

"Attack me, and you'll find out," she challenged him. He blanched and backled away from her.

"And if I refuse?" he asked.

"I'll attack and I'll make it look like a bloodfy accident," she smirked, teasing. Snape gave her a very rare smile and backed away, ready to oblige.

He decided to use something basic. A stunning spell.

Saoirse had not taken out her wand. She stood with her legs planted firmly in the grass, her arms folded over her chest, staring at him with a dazed, milky look in her eyes.

"Take out your wand," he said. She shook her head.

"Do it," she said coldly.

Alright, he thought. She asked for it. He raised his wand above his head and cried "Stupefy!"

A jet of red light flew towards her, only to bounce off mere inches from her body!! How had she done it?

He didn't have time to ponder it. His spell was rebounded and he had to duck to avoid getting hit with it as it flew past.

"Not bad. You should really get used to using your wand, though." he complimented her.

"Nah. I feel foolish, waving a bit of wood around," she complained.

"Don't. We all do it." he reminded her.

"I don't want to duel anymore. It reminds me too much of how Surk and I used to duel." she said.'

"Surk?" he asked. What an odd name.

"My twin brother. He was hit by a bus last year, just after we graduated high school," she told him, staring resolutely at the ground.

"Oh," he said stupidly.

They stared in opposite directions for a while before he broke the silence.

"Your potion was very good your first lesson," he said.

She laughed for real at that, sounding more like Snape's insane half brother Hank than anything.

"You should have seen me as a little kid, I got in SO much trouble. I used to mix things and leave the bathroom a mess all the time. Toothpaste, cleaning stuff, make-up, bleach, stuff like that. I'd mix it and leave it to dry on the bathroom counters," she explained, still laughing. (I really used to do that!!!)

Snape smirked, imagining it.

"I wanted to see if I could make something explode," she said, still smiling.

Snape unconsiously put an arm over her shoulder as they walked back towards the school. Surprisingly, she let him.

Some subjects taken care of between father and daughter, he walked with her back to the school, discussing the subject of her childhood "experiments" all the way to her next class.


	4. Transfiguration and meetings

This one is from Harry's POV. R&R please, I'm a reviewaholic (and it speeds up updates!)

PS. I know that first years wouldn't typically be having classes with sixth years, but I just had to break the rules.

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Harry nudged Ron, who nudged Hermione in turn, and they both looked around. The over-sized first year girl whos name was Snape walked into class, but McGonagall didn't say anything.

"Settle down, now. Today, we are going to be disembarking on human transfiguration. Miss Mahar, I would like to have a word with you in private, however, before we start class... could you come up here please?" she continued. The girl got up and strode up to McGoagall's desk, her thick dark hair falling in a bouncy curtain around her face. Harry couldn't help but think that there was no way this girl could be related to someone as horrible as his old poitions teacher.

They were whispering about something, Harry couldn't hear. Ron shoved something into his hand. It

was an Extendable ear. Quickly, he put it on, and he could hear what they were saying.

"Are you quite sure you're comfortable with the entire school knowing?" McGonagall said.

"Yeah. They'll guess anyway," whispered the girl. They were the first words he'd heard her say, but they reminded him of Snape's deadly quiet tones. Quickly, he tore the Extendable out and cast a frightened look at his two best friends.

The class was easily the most fin they'd ever had with McGonagall. To everyone's surprise, the first year girl, Saoirse, got hers right on the first try, with her black hair now a shocking shade of blue. She walked over to look in the mirror, smirked and sat back down.

Harry cast a look at Hermione, who was by far the best spellcaster he knew, and was surprised to see that she wasn't even paying attention.

After the bell rang, Harry accosted her.

"Did you see that Snape girl? She got it right on the first try! I thought she was a first year? How does she know all of it already?" Harry said. He, Ron and Hermione stopped talking as the girl walked past, her long, thick wavy hair still a bright cerulean color. (A/N: My favorite shade!)

"I expect being away from school this long and knowing her powers better has helped, but it wouldn't hurt her to use her wand once in awhile. " Hermione replied.

"What are you talking about?" asked Ron.

"If you must know, I don't think she's a very nice person. I saw her holding a boy up by his shirt during break, and he didn't look too happy. Anyway, we should both get down to the library and do that homework McGonagall set us," she said.

"I dunno, Hermione, for a Slytherin, she doesn't seem all too mean," said Ron, watching the girl as she walked ahead of them. It seemed she was going to the library as well.

Hermione tutted and as they all three entered the library, they saw the blue-haired first year sitting all by herself near the restricted section. She was pouring over a large paperback book that had apparently come from her school bag. As they took seat near her, she only spared them a glance with her odd colored eyes and went back to her book. Harry looked down at her school bag. It was some American brand, something called L.L. Bean, and it had dozens of zippers. There was a patch ringed in red on the front, and a large, evil looking skull with the words "destroyer" sewn onto the lower pocket.

"Do you think we should ask her?" whispered Ron.

" She's a Slytherin, Ron. Do you really want to be seen talking to her?" asked Hermione rather scathingly.

"Couldn't hurt," he shrugged.

"And who was it that's always said we shouldn't be making friends with people like that everytime I encourage it?" asked Hermione. Ron ignored her and kept watching the blue haired girl.

Finally, the girl looked up at Ron, and her eyes were indeed odd colored. They were also very large and rather catlike. With her heart-shaped face, it gave her a kitten-ish look. But there was also something sad, dangerous and evil in those eyes, Harry was sure of it.

"There something I can help you with?" she asked in a deep voice, raising one eyebrow.

"Why'd you keep your hair blue?" blurted Ron.

"Do you always answer a question with a question?" countered the girl. Harry was again forcefully reminded of the dead, expressionless way Snape spoke, and thought again that it couldn't be true.

Ron lowered his eyes and stuttered something, and the girl laughed. That, at least, didn't sound like Snape, although it did sound rather low.

"I kept it blue because I like the color. It's been blue before, but not by magic, and I was sorry I ever got rid of it. Answer your question?" she replied.

"Uh... yeah," said Ron.

"Excuse me... but wasn't your name Snape?" Harry found the courage to ask her.

She was quiet for a moment, staring at her book. Harry noted that the faraway look in her eyes made her look as if she were staring at nothing at all.

Finally, she looked up, and her eyes narrowed ever so slightly. She closed her book and dropped it back in her bag.

"Yes. I was born with both names. My mother didn't tell me about the name Snape until my brother and I were nearly 15." she said. She sounded as if the next person to ask her where her brother was would be decapitated, so neither Harry, nor Ron or Hermione asked.

"So you're..." Ron trailed off.

The girl looked up at them with an air of someone who would be glad to see them gone.

"I'm Snape's daughter. And I'm late for a class, so if you'll excuse me..." she said. She stood up and swung her large, limp school bag over one shoulder and pulled her hair free from the strap.

"Wait... what's your name?" asked Ron.

Harry and Hermione gave him their "what-are-you-stupid looks and he shrugged.

"Saoirse. I'm assuming you're this Harry Potter everyone keeps talking about," she said over one shoulder.

"Um.. yeah. These are my friends, Ron and Hermione," Harry introduced them.

"Charmed. Catch you later," and with that, she turned back around and loped out of the library alltogether.

" 'What's your name'?" Harry repeated.

"What? I always thought first term introduictions were better!" he replied.

"Hermione, who had been silent since they had walked into the library, a thing that happened whenever a book was thrust in front of her. Finally, she spoke up.

"You don't use your eyes, you two. I could've told you first day that she was Snape's daughter," she said bossily.

"How?" asked Ron and Hermione.

"She looks so much like him. Exceot her hair isn't as greasy, and she doesn't seem all _that_ mean..." she trailed off.

The bell rang, signaling the start of Herbology.

"We'd better go," said Ron.

They all picked up their bags, and headed down to the greenhouses.


	5. Herbology

I know I'm sort of ignoring Snape for the moment, but I'm saving him for a future chapter... heeheehee

PS: I've excluded the original sixth book plot because it sucked. Long live Dumbledore!

Enjoy

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They were all soaked by the time they reached the right greenhouse. It had started to pour the moment they stepped foot outside. They had Herbology with the Slytherins, and Harry noticed his enemy since day 1 of his first year, Draco Malfoy, trying to chat up the new girl, Saoirse. He was pleased to see that she was dutifully ignoring him. As long as Draco was pissed, Harry was happy.

"Today, we're going to be picking Snargaluff pods, so everyone open your books and read up on how to do so... then take a pair of protective glasses and your dragonhide gloves and get to it!" Professor Sprout announced. She pointed to about a dozen snarly tree stumps, covered with prickler vines.

Harry Ron and Hermione did so, and while everyone was busy reading, Harry snuck a glance at Saoirse. She was eradin her book, her eyes moving back and forth even faster than Hermione's. She was twirling a lock of hair as she read and playing with a silver tongue ring.

"Professor..." said Saoirse all of a sudden, breaking the silence.

"Yes, Miss Snape?"asked Sprout.

"What are these things typically used for?" she asked.

While Sprout explained to her, Hermione pulled three pairs of safety goggles to herand handed them out to both Ron and Harry.

"The book says we should just reach an arm in where the vines are and snag a pod." she said.

Harry dove at the tree stump first and retrieved his pod, a light green, slightly pulsating object about the size of a grapefruit.

He felt that this lesson could be over with soon enough.

By the time the class was almost over, the Gryffindors started packing their things, ignoring the Slytherins like always, when Saoirse walked up to Porfessor Sprout and began conversing with her in loud whispers. It sounded like she was asking Sprout if she could have a few leaves from some plant or other.

By the time they had changed and reached the great hall for lunch, all the teachers were already there and accounted for. Snape's daughter sat alone at the Slytherin table talking to her father. Harry still couldn't get himself used to the fact that someone so pretty could be the progeny of someone so ugly and horrible.

"Wonder what they're talking about?" thought Ron aloud.

"Dunno." said Harry.

They ate lunch in silence for the most part. Harry forced himself to stop thinking about what Snape could have done to have fooled some woman into sleeping with him, for no one in their right mind would willingly go for him.

Or so he thought.


	6. Holidays

I've fast forwarded a bit, this one is from Saoirse's POV

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The Christmas holidays came much too fast for Saoirse. Next thing she knew, it was the day before the holiday break, and everyone was talking excitedly about their plans.

Saoirse was usually a loner, and being at Hogwarts had proved no exception. She was usually quiet and drew no unneeded attention to herself, except when she got angry, which was often. She'd already gotten four consecutive detentions for beating the crap out of a Ravenclaw who'd tried to squeeze her butt.

Her teachers liked her, and she liked them, for the most part, but one she didn't like was Slughorn. She was so good at potions, apparently, that Slughorn insisted on praising her to the skies, and she hated it.

She had always had a lonely home life, and her childhood had been miserable. She didn't have too many friends that she was still in contact with. That was why whenever she heard people talk about their holiday plans, she got so sad, and kept withdrawing into herself even further. She spent most of her breaks down by the lake reading a book or playing with the giant squid. Alone.

It wasn't that she was miserable by nature. She just didn't like a lot of other people.

During break later that day, just before the holiday break, a fellow Slytherin came up to her with a note in his hand. Her had slicked back blonde hair and blue eyes, and was in his fifth year. (Draco)

"Professor Snape told me to give you this, Snape. And he says to stop moping," said Draco in a bored voice, as if he had better things to do.

Saoirse took the parchment note and waited until Draco was out of eyesight before opening it and reading it.

"Saoirse,

I know the Christmas holidays are closer, and if you aren't going back to your mother this year, I would like it if you stayed with me for the holidays.

I shall be in my office for the day. I chose a bad day to fall ill, so use one of the school owls to reply."

-your father"

She set fire to it with a wave of her hand and left the ashes on the table. (A/N: Hand was not a typo. Saoirse uses her hands for a lot of her magic)

She decided to go and talk to her father in person instead.

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She simply let herself into the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom and walked up the staircase that led to the office.

She knocked on the door.

"Enter," said her father.

She opened the door and saw that the curtain seperating his private quarters was closed.

She walked over to them and opened it.

Her father was laying in his bed, looking paler than usual and tired.

"Dad... what's wrong? I got the note, but you said you were sick... can't you make up a potion?" she asked.

Her father coughed and looked at her.

"What did you do to your hair?" he asked.

Saoirse almost laughed. Of course, her hair was still blue from that day in Transfiguration.

"Oh. That day when we walked in the courtyard, I went to Transfiguration. We did human Transfiguration, and I turned my hair blue. I liked it so much, I kept it." she said, fingering the ends of one of the numerous bouncy curls at the ends.

Her father coughed again, and pointed at a low table in the corner of the room. It held all numbers of vials, bottles and ingedients.

"I'd make a potion, but this is the flue. It's making me dizzy and faint, so I'm just waiting it out," he said. He did indeed sound sick. Saoirse played with her hands and tried to remember what she had learned about potion making with Professor Slughorn. She'd never made one for sickness before.

"Well, maybe I could make one," she suggested.

"You could, of that I have no doubt. Do you know how?" he asked.

"Um, no, not really." she said, laughing nervously.

He coughed again and said "follow my instructions, then."

He pointed his wand at thin air and a piece of parchment appeared. Saoirse caught it and read it. It was the instructions on how to make a flue-evaporating potion, and it looked like it was homemade.

_fifteen minutes and excellent potions skill later..._

Here," she said, handing Severus a beaker of bright blue liquid.

He drank it, and steam began pouring out of his mouth and from beneath his hair. He sat up in bed and Saoirse saw that he was fully dressed in his usual sweeping black robes.

"You truly are a gifted potion maker, Saoirse. It seems Professor Slughorn was right, although I don't like to admit it..." he said.

She shrugged.

"It was easy. I was never very good with chemistry class in the muggle world, but potion making doens't involve complicated math symbols so far, so it's a snap," she said.

Snape chuckled darkly, and said "So you know,"

"I don't even wanna ask," she said, rolling her mismatched eyes.

Snape gave a _very_ rare smile.

"So... about the holidays. You've seemed very unhappy these past few... erm... weeks," he began.

"Now you care..." Saoirse mutterd just loud enough for him to hear her.

"Don't. Begin," he said firmly.

She folded her arms across her chest and stared at the floor for a few seconds, then looked back up at her father. The arguements could wait for another day.

"I have not been unhappy. I'm _always _ unhappy." she made up an excuse.

Snape smirked.

"Nonsense. You have been hiding from everyone the closer we've gotten to the holiday break. Would you like to spend it with me, or not?" he asked.

Saoirse thought a moment. Well,... it would be nice to get away from the rest of her family for awhile...

"Sure." she said.

"Good. Meet me in the entrance hall after the last class of the day today, and we'll leave,"

Saoirse started for the door to go to her next class, but turned around when Snape called her name.

"Thank you for giving me a chance. Write to your mother and tell her you'll be gone for Christmas break."

"Sure, dad," she said, and she closed the door on him to head to her second to last class of the day; History of Magic.

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It was even more boring than usual, what with Professor Binn's droning, vacuum cleaner voice and everyone's eagerness to get out for the holidays.

By the time the bell rang, Saoirse was still stuffing the notes she'd managed to take into her notebook while everyone else was pretty much gone so fast it was as if they had Apparated out.

She trudged out of the class after everyone else, and noticed her father standing there watching. He had a most uncharacteristic look on his face; one of tragic loss and sadness.

"What's wrong with you?" she muttered out of the corner of her mouth as she walked past him.

He walked alongside her, looking as inconspicuous as he possibly could.

"I'm just sad because even though I left, you were still cursed with the childhood I suffered, and more." he said, and he swept out of her sight before she could even look surprised.

Was that why he had left her and her brother as children? So that they wouldn't suffer whatever childhood her father said he suffered? Well, that was a crummy idea. Look at what'd happened! Look at what had happened to her twin brother! He'd been hit by a mag truck and had no one had been there to help them! He'd died with his spleen hanging out on the ground in the middle of January and died a useless death! Where had her father been? Hanging out in the magical world so his children didn't "suffer".

Her father couldn't fix what he'd done wrong, she decided. She crammed her notebook into her schoolbag angrily and decided she would have a talk with her dad when they got to where ever it was he lived during the holidays. All she could do, however, was forgive him. She couldn't change what he did, or the mistakes he made, but she could forgive him.

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Well, what do you think? I decided to stall the next chapter until littleearstaryn writes his next chapter on christmas with snape, insert evil laugh

Just kidding, please R&R ppl and I'll write the next chapter


	7. Sharing treasures and cocoa

This one will be a little longer, and PLEASE review? I LOVE reviews! I eat them like skittles! (I do not own skittles)

Thanks to felonusangel for writing that new chapter... heeheehee

P.S. I borrowed the orbing thing from Charmed, sorry, it it looks so cool!!

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Before Snape knew it, the last class of the day was over and he was packing some of his things in his office into a small trunk on wheels. He had bought it in a muggle store years ago. He casually flicked his wand at it and it vanished, to reappear at his home.

He gathered his robes about him and began to make his way down to the entrance hall where he'd told his daughter to meet him.

He didn't have to wait long.

There came a shout from his left and he snapped his head around in a moment, ears listening for trouble.

"C'mon, seeeerrrsha, what's'a matter?" taunted a boy's voice. Snape's eyes narrowed. He knew that voice. It belonged to Malfoy.

There was a lower voice, one he recognized as Saoirse's and the next moment, there was a shout.

Snape rushed around the corner looking lvid, his robes billowing around him like bedsheets in the wind, and an intersting scene met his eyes.

Saoirse had sprouted bat-like wings for some odd reason, but Malfoy was on the ground with his face over his nose, moaning in pain.

"Stand up, Malfoy," he said coldly. Malfoy tried to stand using a free hand, but didn't make it. Snape grabbed an armfull of his robes and hauled him to his feet.

His hand fell away from his face, and Snape almost smiled. It seemed as if her Transfiguration marks would be good her first year if people didn't leave her alone.

Malfoy's nose had been Transfigured with that of a pig's. He looked horrified.

Since it was officially the holidays, Snape thought he'd be nice and fix Malfoy's nose himself. With one wave of his wand, his nose returned to normal.

"Five points from Slytherin, Malfoy," he said, and Malfoy glared at him as he stormed away from the scene.

Snape turned to his daughter and raised a questioning eyebrow at the bat-like wings that had sprouted from her back.

She raised her wand, which was a reddish brown color with a single leaf entwining the handle, and the wings slowly disappeared.

"What was that all about?" he asked her.

"He thought he'd get cute, so I fucked up his nose," she said, smiling in that peculiar way Snape himself had.

"Save the language for when we leave school grounds, if you don't mind. Have you sent an owl to your mother?" he asked.

Saoirse rolled her eyes. "Yeah," she replied.

"Good. Follow me," he said. He walked outside and heard his dughter's feet crunch on the snow behind him. As soon as they hit Hogsmeade, he could Apparate them both to his home in Spinner's end.

They walked down to the gates that marked the grounds to the school in silence.

"I take it we'll be Apparating," said Saoirse suddenly.

"Yes," said Snape shortly.

"I can already do that," she said softly.

Snape continued walking, but spared her a glance out of the corner of his eye. How could someone with no wand and no knowledge of how to do so learn to Apparate on one's own? He decided to show and tell her where Spinner's End was, and see if she really could.

Snape took her school bag from her and draped it over one of his own shoulders. He didn't want it to encumber her when she Apparated. She said nothing about it. Snape felt a tad foolish when he took her hand; like a father leading his little girl to the muggle bus stop.

"I take it you know a little Legilimensy?" he asked quietly. How else had she guessed they were to Apparate?

She shrugged.

"I don't really know, to be honest. I can just kinda guess what someone's gonna say next, or sometimes I can tell what they're thinking, but it's wierd. I've never told anyone before. I thought it might scare them," she explained.

They both came to a stop. They were approaching Hogsmeade, someplace Saoirse obviously found intriguing, as her eyes swept the place with renewed interest.

I am trusting you really do know how to Apparate, Saoirse. It would be a bad start to the holidays if we got splinched," said Snape, attempting to sound funny. Saoirse did smile, but she gave him a fierce, determined look and before he could prepare himself, he felt his entire body break into a million particles. He couldn't breath. He couldn't speak. He couldn't feel. He couldn't even think.

All of a sudden, it stopped. He and Saoirse were both standing on the beginning of the lane he lived on. Spinner's End. The abandoned wool mill stood abandoned and forlorn, covered in snow, and not many people walked the streets, but Snape was far too used to this to care.

"What was that?" he asked her, referring to the broken apart feeling he'd gotten. Usually Apparation felt like being squeezed from all sides, but the way she did it felt like nothing in the world could ever feel. Like being torn to bits and put back together again, he mused.

She shrugged in a nonchalant way, looking interestedly at the abandoned mill. She looked behind her at the dirty frozen river and smiled.

"Nice neighborehood," she said sarcastically. At least, Snape thought it sounded like sarcasm. She could have been serious. It was hard to tell. She blocked her mind as easily as she turned her hair blue, and Snape would bet all the money he had that she did it without even thinking.

"I just... did it. I dunno how I do it. I just imagine the blue and the lights and the place I want to go, and I'm there. I didn't even have to read your mind. Mom showed me a picture of this place a long long time ago," she said.

She took off down Spinner's end, and Snape hurried to catch up to her, to show her where his house was. And to make sure Wormtail didn't jump her, he thought grimly. The man was a bit creepy . Unclean too, he thought with a smirk. Then again, he couldn't talk, he thought, fingering his greasy hair. His shower hadn't worked properly since he was 29. He was 36 now.

"It's that one there," he said, pointing to the last one on he dead end lane. His house needed a lot of work, but he didn't have the care of mind to do it. The shutters were falling off, he'd patched the roof countless times, and the paint was peeling, but he knew the inside was cozy enough.

"Cool," said Saoirse. She closed her eyes and her body disintegrated into tiny points of blue-white light and ascended skyward. She reappeared in the same way right beside the front door. Snape smiled. It seemed his only daughter had his potential for magic. He would have to show her how to fly sometime.

"Impressive," he complimented her. She smiled then, and it nearly broke his heart all over again. It was Loren's smile. He sighed, unlocked his front door with his wand and ushered her inside.

He lit the lights with his wand and set fire to a dozen candles around the small living room, and watched her as she explored her new surroundings tentatively. She seemed unwilling to take him for granted, Snape thought to himself. She seemed particularly interested in his books. As these took up most of his living room, she had a lot to look at.

She was about to touch a black leather tome and Snape realized which one it was.

"Saoirse, wait, don't touch-" he began. Too late. She opened it and the book gave an ear piercing shrieking wail. She jumped and ropped it, where it aly open, still screaming.

"-that," he finished.

He bent down and retrieved the book and stuffed it back on the shelf, where it stopped screaming. Snape looked at his daughter, amused. Her eyes were still wide in surprise and she was shaking a bit. Then she laughed and smoother her hair out a bit.

"Just scared me a little," she said, as if it didn't matter.

All Snape's miserable childhood, all through his school years, and all through most of his adult life, he had never seen anything worth laughing at. He had kept up a reputation of a mean-spirited Potions teacher with no sense of humor, unless it lnvlved disembowelment. But seeing his only child take such a blunder, he couldn't help it.

He burst out laughing.

Saoirse stared at him, smiling benignly, and Wormtail peered out from behind the secret bookcase that led upstairs, where he stayed in one of the spare bedrooms. The house had three such rooms, an attic, and a basement.

"Snap?" Wormtail said wonderingly, eyes wide, ratt hair more ratty then ever. He had a distinct odor to him, like over-fermented wine. Snape didn't care if Wormtail raided all his wine. Having his daughter over for the holidays made it worth his time.

He didn't stop laughing for the longest time. When he finally stopped, he took a book down off the shelf. It was a family photo album his mother had made when he was a child. He never took it down these days, and it showed. There was at least a solid inch of dust on the front cover.

"Here," he said, handing her the album. Curious, she opened it and there, on the first page, was a picture of a baby with a shock of black hair and dark blue eyes.

"Who's this?" she asked.

Like all photographs in the wizarding world, this one was moving. The baby was sleeping.

Snape coughed, embarassed.

"Me," he said, as quietly as he could. Saoirse smiled and grinned at him.

She flipped to the next page and saw her grandparents for the first time. This photo was not moving. There was his mother, Eileen Prince, and the muggle she married, Tobias Snape. Between them was a 7 year old him, looking very sulky and glum. His hair was short in this photo.

Is that you, too?" she asked, pointing to the boy. Snape nodded, eyeing his father's photo with distaste. It wasn't because he was a muggle; if he had been there for him when it mattered, Snape wouldn't dislike him so much, but his father had never been there. It bitterly reminded him of what he had done to Saoirse, and he was again surprised that she didn't hate him in return.

"Here," he said, flipping ahead a few pages to another baby picture. Saoirse's eyes widened in surprise and she looked at the photo of herself and her twin brother. Both were moving, but smiling and laughing without sound. She didn't say anything, but he thought she understood. He had never abandoned his children when he discovered he had two. But he had kept pictures and probably thought of them.

Saoirse kept flipping pages and Wormtail spoke up finally.

"Who's this, Snape?"

Snape and Saoirse looked up at him, and Snape pointed to the kitchen.

"My daughter. Why don't you go make yourself useful, Wormtail? I think hot chocolate is in order," he suggested dangerously.

Wormtail turned to go, muttering obceneties under his breath, and Snape was sorely tempted to jinx him with his back turned, but refrained in the presence of his only child.

"I suppose you'd like to know how it all happened, and why I left," he began softly, so Wormtail couldn't eavesdrop as he had a habit of doing.

"Not really. I decided I could forgive you," she said, still flipping curiously through the book.

Snape was taken aback. He stared at her with a most curiuos expression on his face and wondered what he'd done to make her decide to forgive him for leaving her and her brother. Was it the message he'd sent with Malfoy by word of mouth to "stop moping"? Or was it the flu potion he'd taught her to make?

"Why?" was all he could ask.

She looked up at him then, with both eyes, and he thought again on how much her right eye so resembled both of his; black, but with none of the cold. Her right eye was filled with emotion and warmth, while her left, green eye was filled with a sternness that he found unnerving; it was rather like being stared down by McGonagall.

"I decided that no matter what stories are passed, and no matter what either of us say, I can't fix whatever mistakes you made. I decided to just forgive you and start over," she said. Snape searched her fce. She was quite serious. Innocent, but very serious. Snape smiled and did something that was extremely out of character for him, something he'd never even known as a child; he pulled her into a hug.

She looked surprised for a moment, then he felt her squeeze back. She pulled away and they both smiled at each other. Snape felt something wet at the corner of his eye and hastily wiped it away. He _did_ have a reputation to keep, after all. How would anyone else listen to him again?

"I never did give up on you. Your mother sent me pictures of you and Surk for years before he died. I was sorry I couldn't have been there. Being hit by vehicles is easily cureable for wizards," Snape said quietly.

Saoirse looked up sadly and wordlessly, she reached into her shirt and pulld out a small black leather drawstring pouch she wore around her neck. She reached two fingers in and pulled out several small things. A lock of curly black hair, more jet black than her inky blue-black. A small piece of ripped blue cloth stained maroon with what was unmistakeably blood. An ornate silver locket on a fine, silver chain, and a small silver skeleton key. Snape recognized it with a shock.

It was a copy of the key to his bank vault in Gringotts.

"Mom found a couple of your things you left behind. I've had this key since I was little, but I never knew what it went to. I also have..." she trailed off, reaching into her school bag. She pulled out a black velvet cloak with silver lining.

"...an old cloak she says was yours," she finished. Snape did indeed rrecognize it as the shabby, homemade cloak he'd had when he was 17.

"I remember it," he said with a smirk. He pointed to the silver key.

"That is a copy of my bank vault key I lost a long time ago." he said. Saoirse raised an eyebrow and began to hand him the little key. Snape smiled and, reaching into one of his many inner pockets, pulled out his own original. He smiled and turned her little copy away.

"Keep it. You might need it second term," he said. He didn't know her that well, but he could hazard a guess tht she would run out of money eventually from feeding her cat, and buying books. He had only seen a glance of her school bag, but he'd seen many books in there that weren't on the school list.

"The locket?" he asked.

Saoirse's smile disappeared.and she inserted one long, dirty fingernail into the groove that ran around the locket. She snapped it open and a small, tightly folded piece of paper fell out, along with a picture of a teenage boy. Snape picked up the picture first and recognised it immediately. It was Surk, and it struck him how much he was the spitting image of Snape, save for the nose, which was smaller. He was very good looking for a boy his age, and Snape felt un unexpected pang of sorrow for this boy who had died a preventable death.

Saoirse unfolded the paper and handed it to him. It was a square of white paper, painted with acrylic paint. It was a box, with the letters H2 in the middle."

"H2?" he intoned, confused.

Saoirse smiled sadly and took the picture back.

"Surk painted it for me when we were younger. I think it's an element equation, but I'm not sure," she said, folding it back up and putting it, and the picture back into the locket.

"The hair and cloth were both his. I took them from him before the funeral. I also have a lot of his old stuff. I just wasn't able to get rid of it all," she said sadly, her voice wavering with restrained tears.

Snape sensed a cry coming on, but she refused to cry.

"Here," grunted Wormtail from behind them suddenly. He shoved a tray with two mugs of steaming cocoa and a plate of cookies into his arms and moped back up the stairs to his bedroom. The bookcase closed behind him.

"Here. Drink up, Saoirse," said Snape, handing her one of the mugs, and a cookie. She smiled and put everything back into the soft leather pouch and stuffed it back under her shirt. She took the proferred mug and smiled gratefully, sipping it slowly. Snape himself took a cookie and nibbled on it thoughtfully. Wormtail may have been a lot of things, but a bad cook was not one of them. Of course, that wasn't saying much, as he had probably Conjured these cookies, but all the same, they weren't bad.

Thanks, dad," said Saoirse, smiling at him. He smiled back, an expression that was slowly becoming more familiar to him, and they enjoyed the rest of the evening, talking, sipping their cocoa (which Snape kept refilling) and eating cookies.

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Yeah, ok, Snape was a bit out of character here, sue me.. no wait, don't sue me, I'm funny!!! XD

Hey, can someone review and tell me how to make bmp files into jpg files, so I can make a picture for my profile page??????? Pleeeeeeeeeease R&R!


	8. Diagon alley and Animagi

Saoirse spends the holidays with her father after 9 years of seperation. Little fluffy, but please r&r!

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Snape grunted in his sleep and rolled over in bed only to find that he was in his chair, still wearing the clothes from the day previously.

Wintery sunlight filtered through the windows, illumination the entirety of his house, and he saw everything anew in light of having his daughter over.

His house was a dump.

The furniture was shabby, the rugs were stained, the wallpaper was peeling, and the whole place smelled like dried herbs. He decided to clean house a little. Pointing his wand at the wallpaper, the couch, the chairs and the rugs, he muttered "scourgio reparo," and the wallpaper fixed itself, the rugs cleaned themselves and the furniture repaired itself. He loved magic.

He checked his watch and saw it was already 11 am. Saoirse would still be getting over the time changes, and was therefor probably still asleep. Where she came from, it was only 6 am. Jetlag was a bitch.

He sat back down, thinking. This was the Christmas Holidays, and he had no plans. He'd just offered to house his daughter with no plan whatsoever in mind. They would have to make a trip to Diagon alley sometime today, because Christmas was tomorrow.

Now, Snape had never cared much about Christmas, because his family (excluding his mother) had never given him anything for it. He didn't expect anything from Saoirse, either, but he thought he owed her something for lost time.

Speaking of Saoirse...

She came downstairs dressed in an over-large black t shirt that reached to her knees, with tousled hair and pale skin. Her eyes were slitted with sleep.

"Morning," she mumbled, wiping her eyes and straightening her shirt. Now it reached to her shins.

"Mmm," he mumbled, still not quite fully awake himself.

Thirty minutes later found Snape dressed in clean robes and Saoirse dressed as she usually did in the muggle world; in baggy black trousers with chains, skulls and spikes everywhere. Snape had never seen clothes like it before, and he thought they looked interesting. Maybe he'd ask her where she got them.

"I assume you'v never traveled by floo powder before," he said. He handed her a small flower pot filled with sand of an indertiminate color. He ofered it to her, and she grinned evilly.

"I've heard of it, and I've always wanted to try it. Where are we going, anyway?" she asked. Snape smiled. Christmas shopping, he thought, but he wasn't going to tell her that. Reputation, he reminded himself. What was happening to him? Was he going soft because of his only child? If he was, it was an unfamiliar feeling. It made him feel... lighter... He couldn't determine what this feeling was, but he bet if he thought on it, he could figure it out.

She took a handfull and threw it in his fireplace. The flames burned bright green, and he saw the fire reflect in her mismatched eyes, making them both glow with the eerie light.

"Diagon alley," said Snape.

"Diagon alley," Saoirse said calmly, and she stepped without fear into the flames. Snape watched as the fire engulfed his daughter and smiled grimly. He would never admit it to anyone, but he hated traveling by floo powder. He preferred Apparation.

He closed his eyes and apparated into Diagon Alley. Lo and behold, he was standing right next to his daughter. She was staring in all directions with her mouth open slightly.

Snape smiled. It reminded him of the very first time he ever step foot in here. It felt good to relive that with his daughter. Not that he'd ever mention that either. At least not to st. Potter and his friends anyway. He knew he'd sworn to protect the boy out of love for his mother, Lily, but he also had a daughter to protect.

"Where to first?" she asked.

"Wherever you feel like. Here. Go wild," he said, shoving some gold into her hand. He'd just spotted Dumbledore near Eyelops Owl Emporium.

He left her side and hurried over to the old man.

He looked surprised to see him.

"Severus, how wonderful to see you! What brings you here?" he asked.

"Saoirse. It's the holidays, and I thought... well, I didn't have any other plans," he said grumpily.

Dumbledore smiled.

"I told you taking her in would be good for you," he smiled.

"What are you talking about?" he snapped irritably. He didn't like it when Dumbledore said "I told you so". Taking in his daughter _had_ been good for him. He couldn't explain this light feeling, though.

"I assume you've brought her here to Christmas shop?" Dumbledore said.

"Yes," he replied.

"Excellent, excellent, then you'll be wanting to stop over there," he said, pointing to a shop across the alley. Snape followed Dumbledore's blackened and dead finger and saw the animal shop.

"She has a cat," he said, as a way to let Dumbledore know he hated animals.

"She loves animals. Her mother wrote just today, in reply to her letter and told me to tell you that she likes animals, music and what she calls 'gothic stuff'. The things kids like these days," Dumbledore explained. Snape raised an eyebow and Dumbledore handed him said letter. He pocketed it for later and searched the crowds for his daughter.

"Shall I expect you and her back by January the fifth?" asked Dumbledore.

"Yes," Snape muttered, still searching the street. He thought he'd seen a head of blue hair disappear into Knockturn alley. The one place he definitely didn't want his daughter to be seen. He excused himself and hurried after her.

He caught up with her outside a shop that apparently sold poisonous candles.

"Dad, this place is so cool," she said, saring at all the shops dedicated to the dark arts.

"You like the dark arts?" Snape intoned.

"Dark arts? Not really. But skulls and swords are definitely cool," she said, looking at Borgin and Burkes.

Skulls and swords? Snape rolled his eyes. There was a shop in Diagon alley that sold swords, why couldn't she have stopped there?

"One look around, and then we have to go. This place is not one you want to be seen in," he said as quietly as he could, eyeing a woman holding a shrunken head with distaste.

They both entered Borgin and Burkes and the door jingled. Snape himself looked around. This was the shop where the Dark Lord himself had worked when he was Saoirse's age, he thought with a little shiver. Filthy little man.

Hey, cool. Wonder what this is..." she muttered, eyeing a glass dome with piled human skulls inside. The entire thing was rather dusty.

"That is not for sale. It's on hold," said another voice from the back of the shop. Saoirse jumped and Snape looked over to see a very ugly man, the owner of the shop, he presumed. His hair was even more oily than his voice, Snape thought.

"We were just looking around, but thanks," said Saoirse. She looked along the rest of the shelves and peered closer at a small wooden box with a tiny gold clasp in the front.

"It's not cursed or anything is it?" she asked the owner. He sneered behind her back and rolled his eyes.

"No," he said coldly. Snape ignored the man, but Saoirse glared at him and returned her attention to the box. It was painted black and had a tiny, ornate letter M engraved in silver on the top. Snape thought he knew what it stood for. Malfoy. Lucius must have sold it to Borgin.

"Come, Saoirse. Let's get back to Diagon alley.I have some... business I wish to attend to there," he said finally. Saoirse obeyed and headed out of the shop, where she stood on the steps leading out waiting for him.

He ducked into the shadows as only he could so she couldn't see him and took the box off the shelf it was on. It felt heavier than it should, and when he opened it he found out why. It was filled with tiny glass vials of poison. With a look of disgust, he brought the box over to the counter in front of the man and said, " Keep the poisons. I want the box."

Borgin grunted and began taking the vials carefully out of the box, which was lined in deep red velvet, and handed him the box.

"Five sickles," he said irritably. Snape raised an eyebrow. Apparently, the rumors of Borgins unfairly high prices weren't all true. He paid the five sickles and asked for a bag, and he hurried back out to his daughter, careful to hide said bag under his robes.

"C'mon, I wanna check out the bookstore," she said, smiling happily and Snape, forgetting his sour mood along with Borgin, followed her out into the bright sunshine.

Upon entering the bookshop, he saw his second least favorite person in the world; Potter, and more strangely, he was alone. Snape thought he'd have the Weasleys and Ministry Aurors up his behind with the rebirth of the Dark Lord.

He saw Saoirse and waved. Saoirse waved back and vanished behind a shelf of books dedicated to dragons and the like. She did seem to like animals, thought Snape, her mother hadn't been kidding.

"Potter." he said in way of greeting.

"Professor Snape," he returned.

"You know my daughter?" he saked coldy, giving him the look of deepest loathing he always reserved for him, and his father.

"I met her, once in the library with Ron and Hermione, yeah," he retorted.

"Oh? I didn't think Gryffindors and Slytherins talked to each other much," said Snape.

"Hey dad," came Saoirse's voice from behind the shelf.

"See you at school, Potter," he said and he left the boy to go see what Saoirse wanted.

She was kneeling in front of a shelf solely dedicated to dragon species. According to the cover, Snape read that it held every dragon species, both alive and extinct. Snape opened it and saw full color, moving illustrations, along with names of species and details, such as scale patterns and such. It really had magnificent pictures, and Saoirse seemed obsesed with the way they moved their wings.

"It's so cool, I had no idea they were real... even with all that stuff mom told me about you," she said, taking the book from him and flipping a few pages. She closed the book and re-shelved it.

"What did she tell you about me?" he asked, curious.

"That you had hideous parents and you were a good kisser... When she told me that last one, I nearly gagged. It wasn't exactly what I wanted to hear," she said, blushing faintly.

Snape smiled thinly and rolled his eyes. It sounded like Loren, alright. She wasn't very smart. She'd just been the only person who tolerated him, apart from Lily Evans, and even she had hated him after he called her "mudblood".

But he wasn't going to tell his daughter that.

Wanting to change the subject, Snape pointed to a row of books on Potion making. There were books from first year all the way up to seventh and beyond, including some that were on Hogwart's restricted list. Snape had been wanting that last one for ages now, but had just never gotten around to it. He checked his money bag; hehad about 30 galleons, 20sickles, 10 knuts. The book cost about 13 galleons. He'd have to wait another day. He couldn't take back the money he'd given to Saoirse; it wouldn't be right. He decided just to wait.

"Hey, cool. Here's a new one," she said, opening the first potions book she touched, and she sat cross legged and began to read.

Snape smiled and took down a book on dragons, and they sat down beside one another and read their respective books.

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Twenty minutes later, they both left the book store, Saoirse with a bag of her own, even though Snape hadn't seen what she bought. He supposed she'd show him later when they got back home.

Suddenly, it hit him with the force of a ton of bricks. He knew what this light feeling was. How could he be so daft, Dumbledore ranted about it all the time. It was love he felt for his daughter, and this startled him so much, he stopped walking and stood there outside the Managerie.

Then he started thinking like his daughter; screw everyone. So what if they knew he loved her, she _was_ his daughter.

He shrugged to himself and followed her down the alley towards Gringotts bank.

"Where are you going?" he asked her.

"I figured I'd open my own account," she said simply. Snape had nothing to say to this, and he told her to go ahead while he did some other things.

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An hour later or so, they both apparated back into the house, and they welcomed the blazing warmth after the cold of outside. The bottoms of Saoirse's trousers were soaked with snow and slush and Snape dried them out for her. They both set their bags down and Saoirse promptly hid hers from view. Snape simply Vanished his and sent it upstairs to his room.

"Do you like Butterbeer?" he asked her. Right about now, he could go for some, and he conjured some out of thin air with his wand.

She took one of the bottles and took a sip. She shivered, made a face and set it down.

"Not really, but it does warm you up," she said finally. She Vanished hers and Snape shrugged and downed his in a couple swallows.

"What did you buy?" he asked her finally.

"Not much. I'm not big on shopping, really. I got that book I was looking at on dragons, and a couple other small things," she said nonchalantly. Snape wondered why she didn't want to say more. She couldn't possibly have gotten him anything.

He looked at the clock. Their outing hadn't taken more than two hours, and he was hungry. He conjured a plate of sandwhiches and mugs of hot chocolate out of thin air and they ate a light lunch in the warmth of his home, while a blizzard started to rage outside.

"I got a letter from your mother," he said, swallowing a mouthfull of sliced beef. Saoirse had chosen the sliced turkey instead and she swallowed and said, "really?"

Snape reached inside his robes and produced it. With a snap of his wrist, he unfolded it and began to read aloud.

"Dear Saoirse, and Severus, if you're reading this,

I am so proud of you, Saoirse, and Severus, you better take care of her, because if you don't, I'll find a Howler and send it to you.

Saoirse, please, be careful, especially over in England these days, it's very dangerous. Do not leave your father's side in public and do not go neear anything dark or suspicious.

Severus, I never stopped thinking of you, even after you left. Please tell me you've left the Dark Lord. Saoirse likes animals and she loves all sorts of gothic stuff, I swear she gets it from you.I miss you, and I hope I'll see you sometime again.

Love,

mom"

Snape folded the letter back up again, and to his surprise, Saoirse snatched it out of his hands and tore it in halves, throwing them in the fire, where they began to smoke and burn.

Snape gave her a questioning look and she glared at the burning letter.

"She kept telling me to be careful and stay away from skulls and stuff while I'm over here. She doesn't trust me at all, you know," she muttered darkly.

"I'm sure she just wants you to be safe," he replied, finishing his last roast beef sandwhich and downing the last of his chocolate. If he kept up like this, he'd get fat.

Saoirse made a noise somewhere in the back of her throat and laughed srcastically.

"Safe?!" she cried.

Snape froze. Finally, here it was. The reason Saoirse didn't want to go home. He knew being a servant hadn't been the only thing, because he half believed it wasn't true. He listened.

"It's not lke she ignores me or anything, she just doesn't trust me at all. Everytime I wanna use magic to clean the house, she yells at me and tells me I could hurt someone. Every time I astral project to get some free time, she yells at me because it's dangerous to split my personality. I don't get any privacy at all..." she ranted at thin air. It seemd she had wanted to say this the whole time.

"Astral project? You can astral project??" interjected Snape, sitting more upright. 18 Years old and she could alreayd astral project! With no magical education! Astral Projection couldn't even be done by some of the best wizards in time!! It took _years _of study! He wasn't sure even Dumbledore could do it.

Saoirse looked surprised.

"Yeah," she said. Her chest glowed momentarily, and her body slumped forwward, her head bowed, her hair in her face. The glowing became an exact copy of her, down to the freckle under her chin. It waved at him and smiled. Her limp body lifted its head and suddenly looked shy and timid. Her asrtal self on the other hand...

Snape had to dodge because her astral self hit him with a blast of white light that tore a hole through the opposite wall. She was screaming and her eyes blazed red.

Snape muttered a countercurse and suddenly both Saoirses were again one.

Her body had been hiding under the cofee table and she crawkled out from under it and sat back down in the chair.

Snape, still shaking, crawled out from behind his chair, waved his wand at the blasted wall, and it repaired itself. Thanks to whatever gods there were for magic, he thought to himself.

"I can see why your mother doesn't like you astral projecting," he said shakily, sitting back down himself.

I think the projection is just my temper," she said, as if suggesting they make tea.

"No, it is your other half. What muggles would call the voice in the back of their head. You have a lot of pent up anger, Saoirse. Perhaps... I can speak to Dumbledore and he can teach you how to control your inner self," he suggested, still a bit shaken.

"Why can't you?" she asked sulkily.

"Very few wizards can astral project. It takes years and years of study, and even then, only Merlin and a few dark wizards have figured out how to do it. It is a rare gift," he explained to her.

This seemed to cheer her up a little, and she grabbed her second to last turkey sandwhich.

"I can shape shift, too," she said between mouthfulls.

"You mean you are an Animagus," he automatically corrected her.

"Yeah," she said, swallowing.

"And what is it you become? Out of curiosity," he asked. This, he thought, would be an interesting insight into her character.

She set her sandwhich down and walked out of the common rea, going upstairs without a word. Snape raised an eyebrow, shrugged, and picked up the book Saoirse had been reading before, the red leather book on dragons. It was a documentary, a biology of sorts on their bodies and behavior. That she could even comprehend the large words and complicated theories was incredible.

He was interruptd by a soft growling sound. He lowered his book and jumped.

There in front of him was an enormous, shaggy white tiger with mismatched eyes.

"Saoirse?" he asked slowly, comprehension dawning on him. The eyes had more intelligence behind them than just tiger. The tiger nodded and laid down, head resting on shaggy paws the size of sauce pans. Her tail twitched back and forth and Snape noticed the very tip was orange instead of white and black like the rest of her. Odd.

"Change back," he said. The tiger shook her head and pointed to a book on his shelf with the end of her tail. Snape walked over to the book and puled it out. Human biology. The tiger tok it out of his hands with her enormous jaws and pawed through the pages until it landed on a picture of a naked human, complete with labels. Snape understood.

"You can't change back wearing clothes," he guessed.

The tiger nodded and pawed back towards the stairs. A minute later, Saoirse came back down, dressed in her chains and spikes again, wearing a black t-shirt with an orange skull on the front. With her piercings and blue hair, she looked very... dark. He guessed she dressed like that to make sure no one picked on her. Snape could identify with that.

"I dress like this because it's what I'm comfortable in," she corrected him, using her simplified form of Legilimensy.

"You can easily learn how to change into your tiger with clothing. Here," he said, handing her a book on animagi. She took it interestedly and started reading it.

Snape, meanwhile, took the opportunity to wrap what he bought for Saoirse.

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Later that night, after a dinner of ribs and mashed potatoes (Saoirse made it), as Snape lye in bed on that Christmas eve, he thought he had never in his life been so restfull on a holiday break as he was this year.


	9. Christmas

Now, for the most anxiously awaited chapter, and thanks to my loyal rviewers, and felonusnagel, for reviewing! But seriously only 1 review on chapter 8:(

p.s. This story is based a lot on what I would hope I could do with my biologial father if ever I knew him. I guess I'm just hopefull. My mom isn't. I asked her what she'd get for him if she had to and she said "tuna fish. it's all he ever wanted." I really have a strange family...

Enjoy. please r&r!!

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Snape was up all night, conjuring a tree, decorating it with bits and things he found around the house. He'd found an old box of tree ornaments up in the atttic that his parents had left behind and he used these, too. The end result was that it didn't look half bad. He stood back and admired his handiwork at 2 in the morning, and felt a small sort of pride in his last minute work.

He set the packages down under the tree, all wrapped in silver and green paper, and thought he'd done okay. He also threw a smaller one under for Wormtail, althought the miserable little rat didn't deserve it. He only did it so Saoirse wouldn't ask, but Snape was loath to spend his first Christmas with his daughter with that man.

He heard the toilet flush upstairs, and knew Saoirse was up. As quickly as he could, he put out the lights and Apparated upstairs to his room.

He undressed and got changed into his customary nightshirt, and as he was doing so, movemone out the corner of his eye caught his attention.

He peered out the window and saw it was snowing heavily, and Saoirse was walking down the drive wearing naught but her night shirt and slippers. She turned and looked up at the window and Snape was startled to see a blank face and glazed eyes; she was sleeping!

Quick as he could, he grabbed his wand, mutterd a spell and he saw his daughter start to shiver so far below. She stripped her night shirt off (Snape avoided his eyes, for he knew what she must be about to do) and when he dared look back, he was staring an an enormous shaggy white tiger.

She picked up the shirt and slippers in her jaws and silently prowled back inside the house. Snape blew out a breath of relief and lay back on his bed, suddenly exhausted. He couldn't remember ever having a busier Christmas.

As he lay down, he heard noises coming fom downstairs and assumed she was getting a glass of water. He closed his eyes and slept.

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Whne next he awoke, the window outside showed the weather to be gray and bleak, but otherwise fine.

He got dressed, ran a brush through his hair a few times, shook it out, and headed downstairs.

He went straight to the kitchen to make some tea and coffee. He did it purely through habit, mixing in a sprig of mint leaf and sugar cane. He shuffled out into the living room and sank down into a chair, sipping his drink and staring into the empty fireplace. He waved his wand and a fire sprang up as if it had been burning all day.He sat there for a couple hours, sipping his tea and refilling it, whenhe heard Wormtail moving about upstairs.

"Down here, Wormtail," he called up through the roof.

A minute later, Wormtail came out through the hidden door in the book case and stared at him timidly. He pointed a finger at the tree, which look strangley fuller, now, and said , "find the one for you, and go to the kitchen and make breakfast. If I find one hint of poison, I shall make sure you are punished. Clear?"

"P-perfectly, Snape," said Wormtail, lookig nervously at the small pile of presents under the small tree. He found his quickly, felt it, shook it and took it upstairs to his bedroom, which, Snape imagined, must smell like filth by now. He made a mental note to have the room fumigated after the Dark Lord gave the orders to have him removed.

He returned back downstairs and disappeared into the hidden kitchen.

A few minutes later, Saoirse came downstairs dressed in bright green pajama bottoms decorated with shamrocks and a tight black t-shirt with a splattered, red A on the front. Snape noticed she was every bit as skinny as he had been as a teenager, though not as stringy.

Wormtail peered out and Snape caught him looking at her chest, which was quite a bit bigger than her waist, and he threw the nearest thing he could reach (which was a book) at his stupid face. Wormtail disappeared once again.

Saoirse, thankfully, noticed nothing except the thrown book. She plopped down in the chair opposite her father and rubbed the sleep out of her eyes.

"Merry Christmas," she mutterd.

"You too," he said, automatically, it seemed.

She borrowed his wand off the side table it rested on, and Snape watched interestedly as she waved it, muttered something, and a cup of something steaming appeared out of thin air with a puff of black smoke. She returned his wand to him and sipped from the conjured cup.

"Cocoa," she explained simply.

They both sat, sipping their drinks, and when Snape felt awake enough, he drained the last of it without refilling it and set it on the table beside him. He cleared his throat and she looked up at him with sleep-puffy eyes.

"Mmm?" she mumbled.

Snape waved his wand and levitated ne of the things he'd bought her (talk about being lazy) and set it in her lap. It was the box he'd bought at Borgin and Burkes, and he'd filled it with photographs of his entire family, from his mother's ancestors, to pictures of him as a child, to pictures of his father. He'd also included a photo of his entire school class at Hogwarts.

She opened it uncertainly and saw the box. She smiled and opened it, and her face got a curious look as she sifted through the photographs.

"Wow...giggled I look a lot like you did as a kid," she said, looking at a moving photo of him in his school robes at 17.

"I got something for you, too," she said shyly. She pointed to a paving-ston-sized gift wrapped in newspaper and Snape, extemely curious, lifted it up off the floor. It felt like a book.

He unwrapped his second Christmas gift in his adult life and saw that it was exactly the potions book he'd wanted for a year now. He opened it eagerly and saw colorful illustrations and complicated potions, some with pretty gruesome effects, and already, his mind was forming corrections he could make to some of them.

"Thank you," he said. "I've been wanting this potions book for a year now."

"I know. I could tell you wanted it when you pointed to the rows of potions books," she said, blushing slightly.

Snape frowned.

"You know, Legilimensy is a useful thing, but it shouldn't be abused," he scolded.

"Yeah, I know. That other one there is yours, too," she said, pointing to a smaller gift, also wrapped in newspaper.

Snape unwrapped it curiously, and saw with some shock of horror that it was a non-moving muggle photo of Saoirse and her twin brother Surk (who really _did_ look a lot like him) and who must only be Loren. He stared. She was huge as a bloody car, but herface was as he rmembered it, even if he couldn't see her chin anymore. He just wanted one last hug. He wiped his eyes, just in case, and set the picture down on the table.

"Thank you, Saoirse. Really," he said gratefully.

He looked under the tree and saw with some surprise that there were a couple gifts there that neither he, nor Saoirse had wrapped. They were covered in floral and birthday wrapping paper, and he saw Loren's name all over them. One said "to Snape, love Loren". He picked it up, curious.

It felt like... cans. Smiling, because he thought he knew what it was, he unwrapped the lurid princess birthday wrapping paper and saw--tuna fish.

Saoirse raised an eyebrow.

"Tuna fish. Uh, dad? Why did mom give you tuna fish?" asked Saoirse skeptically.

Snape chuickled and set the tuna down on the table beside the picture Saoirse had given him.

"When we knew each other, she always gave me tuna fish. I'm addicted to the stuff," he said. Saoirse smiled unbelievingly and pointed to the last two things under the tree.

"What are those?" she asked. Snape had deliberately left them until last. One was a small stack of books on "mythical' creatures, vampires, werewolves, dragons, and the like. The other was a choker necklace with metal silver spikes on it that he'd seen in Borgin and Burkes on his way out, and after rmoving the rather simple curse on it, he'd wrapped it.

Yours," he said simply. He handed them both to her and smiled as she opened them. She put the necklace on immediately. The books, she buried herself in, not unlike Hermione Granger, he thought bemused.

Wormtail appeared from the kitchen, two plates floating in front of him. Both had pancakes and bacon on them, Snape saw.

"Thank you," he said thinly, dismissing him. Saoirse spared him a single glance before digging in to the bacon. It seemed she liked bacon.

"Not bad. Is he your house elf?" she asked seriously.

Snape choked on his bacon for laughing and when he finally swallowed, his eyes streaming, he kept on laughing. Dumbledore had been right, as always. It was worth taking his daughter in. He'd never laughed so much in his life. She was witty and funny, but seriously so, which made it even funnier.

"No. He's the Dark Lord's lackey, he's living here with me for the moment under his orders to help me out," he replied, eating his pancakes.

"Dark lord?" she said skeptically, and to his surprise, she stopped eating and rolled her eyes.

"What?" he asked.

"Mom told me about that. She said you gave yourself over to this guy and killed people with him and your friends," she said darkly.

Snape made a derisive noise i n his throat.

"I did nothing of the sort. I never killed anyone. I have my ways of stepping out. I never wanted to kill anyone... except maybe James Potter," he added.

"Well, that's a relief. I could never give myself over to anyone. I have my music and my own choices. My life is my own," she said firmly. There was a finality in her voice that said quite clearly that she meant it. Snape got the feeling that she could give his father a run for his money when it came to being the boss, because there was also something in her mind that told him she refused flat out to be ordered around like a maid. Where on earth had she gotten the defiance from, he wondered? It wasn't a bad thing, certainly, but what was the reason? He hoped it hadn't been her mother's stories of him.

Alright," said Snape gently, in hopes of calming her down. He handed her her... jacket. He stared at it. It looked like a combination trench coat and corset. The front of it had skull-shaped clasps and looked like it was meant to be tight. The bottoms looked as if it were a small dress. (A/N: I always wanted a trench coat like that)

Here. I think a walk is in order. Show you around," he offered.

She smield.

"Sure," she said, and she put her coat on. It did indeed squeeze her middle like a corset, but the rest of it was quite roomy. It made her look very gothic and creepy, he thought. (A/N: YAAAAAAY, Gothic creepy stuff!!!!!!! 0.o)

Snape pulled his winter cloak on and opened the door for her.

"Wormtail, we're going out. Do not get into anything," Snape said dangerously.

He disappeared into his bedroom once again.

Snape closed the door on his warm house and they both walked into the snowstorm. Saoirse wanted to explore the abandoned chimney of the wool mill. Hence the street name of "Spinner's end", as in wool spinners. Snape had already been there, of course. It had been his favorite hangout since he was a child, and it had the graffitti to prove it.

They got done exploring the mill (there wasn't much there not taken over by snow) and decided to go into the nearest wizarding town, which just happened to be Salazara. It wasn't very dark, despite the name; it was actually quite green, in the spring. Now it looked like a christmas card town.

Snape led the way into the nearest pub, (where the bartender knew him well) and bought Saoirse a strawberry ice cream shake and himself a vanilla. They sat by the window drinking (in Saoirse's case, for some reason, chewing) in silence, watching the snow drift by. It was the most peacefull holiday Snape had ever had. Sitting here with his daughter, drinking his vanilla milkshake and looking forward to reading his new potion book when they got back.

It was an unusal wish for him, but he wished this holiday would never end.


	10. School's back in

This just glosses over stuff and fast forwards to January... oooo... did I mention the holidays holds one more surprise? A/N: Yes, for those of you who are loyal Charmed fans, I've borrowed a few of their active powers for Saoirse, I just think they're so fitting to a loving badass like her.

Enjoy, PLEASE R&R!!!!!!

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The next couple days were pretty uneventful, when Snape looked back on them. The day after Christmas, he and Saoirse sat in his study all day and did absolutely nothing. He graded papers all through the night while she slept. The day after that he witnessed Saoirse downing pills but at the time didn't think much about it. She said it was a prescription.

It was the day before holidays ended when Snape's doorbell rang. Both he and Saoirse looked up in surprise.

Snape opened the door without unchaining it, peering out beforehand.

It was a woman with her hed buried deep in a fur lined winter jacket. Flyaway red hair blew in the bitter cold wind and a pair of glasses glinted at him. He knew those eyes.

"Loren!" he said, surprised. He opened the door and let her inside, where she took her hood off for Snape to see her all the bettter. Looking at her now, he couldn't believe he'd ever slept with this woman. In person, she was bigger than a house. It was a wonder how she'd even gotten through the front door. Her belly preceeded her, and her shirt barely covered the vast expanse.

"Mom?!" said Saoirse, eyes wide. She had been reading but now looked up.

"Hey honey," she said. Then she turned her attention to Snape.

"Did Dumbledore give you my letter?" she asked indifferently.

"Yes," he said silkily. "However, your daughter burned it," he finished.

"I half expected her to," she blew it away.

"I caught a plane the first time I heard. Saoirse, how wonderful!" she gushed, leaning in on her daughter for what must have been a very fleshy hug.

Saoirse looked half annoyed, half confused.

"Uhh... you flew halfwawy across the world to give me a hug?" she asked.

"No, silly. Don't you remember writing to me?" asked Loren. Snape sat down, intrigued.

"No," said Saoirse, looking confused, her brows knitting.

"You wrote and told me you were going to have a baby! Don't you remember?" said Loren, smiling with yellowed teeth. Snape actually jumped at these words. That was nothing compared to what Saoirse did. What she did made him jump in surprise.

"WORMTAIL!!" she screamed up the stairs. A moment later, the frightened man came downstairs with a guilty look on his ugly face.

"Who's this?" asked Loren, gesturing at the ratty man.

"Did you write to my mom?" Saoirse demanded.

"Well, um... m-m-"

"-Answer her," Snape demanded as well.

"Maybe," Wormtail squeaked.

All three of them were shocked, confused and angry. What on earth possessed Wormtail to do such an out of character thing, wondered Snape.

"I'M SICK OF BEING YOUR LACKY, SNAPE!" Wormtail suddenly erupted, shouting furiously at him. Saoirse made a disgusted noise and raised both hands to her shoulders af if warding him off. Instead she froze him with a wandless spell and Wormtail froze completely, his face contorted.

Everyone was silent for a moment, but Loren broke it.

"Well, at least I didn't come here for absolutely nothing. Here. I brought this last minute," she said, handing a wrapped gift to her daughter. It looked to Snape like a bottle or potion.

"What have you been up to lately?" she asked Snape then, turning to him.

"I left the Dark Lord and rejoined Dumbledore's side. I am now a triple agent. Yourself?" he asked. This whole conversation was pointless small talk for Saoirse's sake, he knew it.

"Construction, but I keep hurting myself. I'm thinking of taking up nursing again," she replied.

"Could I talk to you for a moment Loren?" asked Snape, beckoning her to his kitchen. She followed him, waddling. She had to squeeze in sideways to get her behind through the hidden door.

Once they were both in the kitchen, Loren smiled. Snape didn't think it did much to improve her looks.

Trying not to grimace too much, he asked, " Why have you really come? Surely, Saoirse's supposed..."pregnancy"," the word sounded odd and unwelcome on his tongue, "-...could not be the only reason."

"Oh, alright. I didn't think an owl or a postman would keep it safe, so I brought the potion myself. I had one of your old friends make it, since we both know I'm no good at that sort of thing," she said, throwing up her hands. Snape used his Muffliato spell on the door so Saoirse couldn't hear them talking. He bet she'd know what he'd done immediately.

"What is this potion designed to do, exactly?" he asked.

"Spa her powers and make her muggle," said Loren, glaring at his left arm where she knew the dark mrk was branded.

Snape rarely got angry; that was one mood he reserved for Potter especially. But at this, he truly got mad.

" ' Sap her powers'?! And just why would you feel the need to do that?" he yelled. Even as they argued, he felt an ironic sense of deja vu. He tried not to dwell on it.

"I don't want you influencing her! She's all I have left!" Loren yelled back, her face getting redder and making her even uglier.

"I told you, I am no longer a Death Eater, Loren. How do you think I will influence her? She's already been sorted in to Slytherin house, and she seems to be far more determined than your average Dark wizard!" said Snape somewhat more calmly.

"Determined, ha! You were the same way! She's always taken after you, Severus! Always, even when I told her the Dark arts were bad! She's a rebellious teenager! What do you think she won't do?" cried Loren, suddenly angry.

Even though Snape had no expertice about raising children, he thought he deserved at least some credit. He'd done well over the holidays, after all.

"You only agreed to send her here to Hogwarts when her powers started getting out of hand, Severus! Why should I believe you when you say you care?" Loren went on. Snape faltered.

For the first time in his life, he had nothing to say. Of course, the reason he'd agreed to pay Saoirse's way through school was because he'd thought she could be an asset to him on his missions with her powers. That was before he'd gotten to know her. Now he could do nothing of the sort. But would Loren believe him?

"I care deeply about her, too, Loren. I assure you, she is in good hands when I say she will not follow in my footsteps. I won't let you give her that potion," he said dangerously, lowering his voice.

"I'm leaving," she sobbed, and like that, she disapparated to an aeroport, Snape presumed.

Sighing wearily, he left the kitchen and found Saoirse staring at him with a hard-to-read expression on her face. Like a mixture of understanding, love and anger, at who, Snape had no idea.

"She was trying to strip my powers from me, wasn't she?" she said softly, holding up the wrapped bottle. Without a word, and figuring it was pointless to lie to her now, he nodded.

Saoirse shattered the bottle angrily and sent it flying with a wave of two fingers.

Snape had no idea how to calm an angry teenager, so he gave her an awkward side hug and she sniffed. He noticed that her normally blue hair was looking a little white streaked. He thought nothing of it. Probably another Transfiguration trick, he thought.

"She's always been afraid of my powers. This isn't the first time she's tried this," said Saoirse bitterly.

"Are you angry with me?" he asked.

She looked up at him with one of his expressions.

"No. I heard you guys, by the way. You weren't pointing in the right direction. I was on the other side of the room, so you missed," she informed him.

"Oh," was all he could say.

They sat in silence for a while and Saoirse seemed to cheer up at once.

" What do we do about Wormtail? Can we turn him into a banana and throw him to a monkey?" she asked, half serious, Snape saw with some amusement. She truly was his child. Loren hadn't been kidding.

"Better not, although I will be speaking to the Dark Lord about him, of that you can be sure. Unfreeze him, please," said Snape in his most deadly voice.

Saoirse unfroze him with a wave of her hand and Wormtail seemed oblivious to all that had happened. He was still pretty angry, Snape noticed. Usually freezing spells simply made the victim immobile, not totally unawares.

"Go to your bedroom Wormtail. I'll deal with you later," said Snape, glaring at the man. He looked about to refuse and Saoirse stepped in looking murderous.

"Go," she said coldly. Snape thought it sounded exactly like him and after his arguement with Loren for the first time in nearly 19 years, he wasn't sure if he should feel proud or not.

For once, Wormtail obeyed, perhaps intimidated by the look in Saoirse's eyes.

Her pupils were slitted.

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Before they knew it, they had spent their holidays and were almost ready to return to the school via the floo network. Snape was ready to go. Saoirse, it transpired, was not.

"Just a sec, I can't find that book you got me!" she called from somewhere upstairs. Snape raised his wand.

"Accio Saoirse's book!"

The book flew out from under a pile of others and he caught it deftly in one hand. Saoirse appeared on the landing and smiled when she saw he had it.

"Ready?" he asked.

"Almost," she muttered, digging in her bag for something. She found it.

"Hey dad," she said.

"What," he said, still getting used to being called dad. He turned and saw her holding an ordinary muggle camera. She set it down on the arm of the chair and joined his side. They both wore their school robes and hers were almost as billowy as his were. She said she'd made them herself.

He pointed his wand at her camera, and it went off with a flash, capturing both their images on film forever.

Throwing the floo powder into the roaring flames, they both stepped into it, with cries of

"Hogwarts!"


	11. Birthday Surprises

Please, please, please review!! I need ideas! I live on them!

January, and the end of year exams are getting closer... Dumbledore's too busy to help Saoirse, and January 9 brings Snape a surprise

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Later the day after the end of holidays, Snape attempted to secure a meeting between Saoirse and Dumbledore. It was obvious she needed extra help controlling her powers.

"Come in," said Dumbledore's voice. Snape entered and walked up to the old man's desk. He looked surprised to see him.

"Ah, Severus. To what do I owe the pleasure?" he asked.

Snape sat down without being asked and said, "Saoirse."

"Ah, your daughter, and very good reports from her teachers. Apparently, she has gotten remarkable control of her powers without the aid of school. What is the problem?" said Dumbledore pleasantly.

"She's an unregistered Animagus, for starters. White tiger. Mismatched eyes. And massive," began Snape, still amazed at the animal she became. A tiger that size was big enough to swallow a human head whole in one bite.

"Interesting. Her mother seems to think she has no control over it," said Dumbledore.

"Really?" said Snape, pretending this was new. Then he remembered the streaks of white hair he'd seen among the blue the day before, and he understood. Saoirse was having trouble with her ability to transform. He remembered the pills and voiced his question.

"Could it be an allergic reaction to her medication, sir?"

Dumbledore looked pleasantly surprised and smiled benignly.

"Now, it could be. All personal medication belonging to students has to go through me first, then Madam Pomfrey, and if it checks out with both of us, they are allowed to keep it on their person. I'm guessing she didn't know that and therefor keeps it on her regardless," said Dumbledore.

Snape sighed.

"Could you possibly teach her to control her other powers? When you aren't dealing with Potter? She can astral project, sir!" said Snape.

Dumbledore sat up straighter and looked far ore interested.

"A surprising ability. Unfortunately, I cannot. I am far too busy, and my reflexes aren't what they once were," he said sadly, brandishing his deadened hand.

"However, I am sure I could convince Horace Slughorn, with a slight pay raise," he added. Snape snickered.

"I bet he wouldn't mind. He likes her," said Snape.

"Quite. Not unlike the way he admired Lily Potterr all those years ago," agreed umbledore. Snape lowered his gaze and said nothing at the mention of his lost childhood friend.

Dumbledore cleared his throat and began writing a note, preferably for a house elf to take to Slughorn later that day, Snape assumed. He waited until Dumbledore was finished and vanished it elsewhere, before getting up and jerking his head in a slight bow of respect.

"Thank you, headmaster," he said, and without a word from Dumbledore, he left.

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_Slughorn's POV_...

Horace Slughorn was kicked back on one of his poufy couches and was just about to settle down to a good nap between classes when there was a small knock on his office door.

"Come in," he called. A house elf stepped in, carrying a rolled up piece of parchment and wearing a neatly pressed, starched toga stamped with the Hogwarts crest.

"Excuse me, sir, but Proffesor Dumbledore wanted Slinky to deliver a message to Proffesor Slughorn, sir," said the elf.

"Well, bring it here, then, Slinky, and let's see what it is," said Slughorn cheerfully, beckoning to the elf by name.

He read through it onc,e then again, than a third time, just to be sure. Surely Dumbledore didn't think he could help this girl? Well, for a pay raise of those proportions, he could at least try. He thanked the house elf and pardoned him back to the kitchens.

He sat there on his couch for awhile, brooding on it. This girl, Snape's daughter, intrigued him... He wondered why the Death Eaters hadn't come calling on her yet if she could do what Dumbledore claimed she could.

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Later tha evening, before dinner and after all classes wereover for the day, Slughorn called Saoirse Snape into his office. He had cleared any and all unneccesary things out of harm's way, so the only things in the room were himself, Saoirse and a few chelves. He was taking no chances with a loaded cannon. (A/N: Speaking of cannon, what the heck does it mean when authors refer to their stories as a "canon"?Review and tell me!)

She stood opposite Slughorn, wand at her side, her hair a shocking shade of cerulean, her face a perfect mask of puzzlement.

"Professor Dumbledore wrote to tell me you've been having trouble with your ability to transform, and with yyour ability to astral project," began Slughorn.

"My father told Dumbledore, who told you," she corrected him, not unkindly.

"I suppose. For today, I'm only going to teach you how to control your transformation. Now," he continued. " When do you change against your will?" he asked.

She shrugged.

"When I'm angry, but I usually get it under control before I start to grow fangs," she attempted to joke. Slughorn didn't laugh, although she was his favorite student after Lily and Harry Potter.

"Transform for me now, please," instructed Slughorn. She shrugged and closed her eyes. Her shoulders grew massive, her clothes ripped at the semas, her knees bent backwards and her face grew black and white fur.

Standing in front of him was an enormous white tiger the size of his mahogony desk, its head bigger than his stomach. She growled at him, her mismatched eyes trailing him with the accuracy of a deadly predator. Sweating nervously, Slughorn instructed her to change back before noticing her ripped clothes on the floor. He realized she couldn't.

"Al-alright. I'll leave for a moment so you can change back, fix your clothes and get dressed, terribly sorry, Miss Snape," he excused himself, embarassed, and he left in a hurry, more to escape those eyes than anything.

Saoirse poked herhead out a second later, fully dressed and as unconcerned as ever. Slughorn rejoined her.

"Now, when you are angry, what do you feel?" he asked.

"Well... I feel like screaming," she offered.

"Hmm. I believe you take medication?" he asked. It had also been in Dumbledore's note.

"Yeah, but it's to help me sleep, without it, I sleepwalk," she said, her brow creasing just like her father's did.

"Now, that shouldn't be too difficult!" he said jovially. "There's a simple potion for that!" He waddled over to his potion making kit and extracted the neccesary to make a simple, Progressive Sleeping Draft. It put the drinker to sleep, but not immediately, and allowed them to dream. Slughorn could add a couple extra ingredients to make it so she wouldn't sleepwalk. It wouldn't take him ten minutes to make, and it would take her even less.

He showed her how to make it, then stood back and let her make it herself. To his delight, she got it right first try.

"Five minutes to dinner, you'd better get down to the Great Hall, m'dear, and make that potion every night before bed. It can be stored in bottles, but it's best to make it fresh every three nights. Come, I'll walk you down," he offered. She nodded and they left.

Before he exited his office, he waved his wand once and all his furniture returned to their original places.

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Time passed, in which Saoirse and the rest of her year studied for their exams. Snape helped her with her notes, ofering her his old school notes, which he thought helped her.

The New Year came and went, and Snape was asking all of Saoirse's teachers hwo she was doing. All he got was praise, although there were reports of numerous detentions for fighting. He'd have a word with her before she went home to the states.

January 8, the weather outside was at an all time low. It was so cold icicles were forming in the corridors and the students had taken to wearing their winter cloaks in and between classes. The dungeons were the worst, and Snape had already taken two Pepperup Potions for cold. Saoirse wore no cloak. He guessed that living where she did, she was used to the cold. Snape's birthday was tomorrow. There was no reason for him to believe anyone would remember.

Yet the very next day, January 9, Saoirse cornered him during her lunch break (and his) and gave him a mini cake he suspected she'd made herself, and a wrapped gift. She then gave him a brief hug right there in the halls and left without a word.

Setting himself down at the staff table with his cake and gift, he opened the card first, still completely bewildered that she not only knew his birthday, but had remembered it.

The card was handmade, with a dragon border. She was quite a good artist. It said :

"Dear dad, Happy birthday!

Mom always told me you weren't to be trusted but I never gave up on you. I'm not like that.

This past Christmas holiday was my first ever vacation, and spending it with you meant a lot to me. I just wanted to thank you for that. So here it is.

Love, Saoirse"

Snape set the card down, oblivious to beseeching looks he was getting from Flitwick and McGonagall, and eyed the wrapped gift. It was box-shaped, which made sense, because when he unwrapped it, it turned out to be- a box.

He slit the tape off with his wand, opened the box and saw his gift from his daughter, and he pulled it out.

It was a silver gilded picture frame, with he and she side by side, her arm around his shoulder, smiling. As was usual in the wizarding world, the picture was moving, but he wasn't doing much more than smirking and waving. Snape smiled and swept the Great Hall with hsi eyes. Saoirse was sitting alone at the Slytherin table, well away from the rest, leaning over and talking to a Ravenclaw with straggly blonde hair. He thought nothing of it.

He set the picture frame aside and dug into his little cake, on which the words "Happy birthday dad" was written in green icing.

It was easily the best birthday gift of his life.


	12. Exams and Inquisitions

Hey, this one'll be pretty long, and I'm thinking on a sequel!!! You'll see why, if you read on...

Enjoy, and thanks to those who've reviewed, and please, keep'em coming!! They inspire me to keep

updating

P..S. I don't own anyone in here except Saoirse, so no stealing! pps. Dumbledore doesn't die, Malfoy is up to nothing and no death eaters enter the school. Bill still gets attacked by a werewolf. I guess he said the wrong thing to Fenrir, hahahaha

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Time passed a little too quickly for Saoirse. The castle felt more like home than anywhere. She didn't have to do any chores, all she had to worry about was homework, the first year classes were ridiculously easy and she was acing all her classes so far. Potions, Defense Against the Dark Arts, Transfiguration, History of Magic, Charms and Herbology. All was fine except Herbology, where she guessed she was getting, merely "passable." It just wasn't all that interesting, taking care of plants. Mostly, she just read the textbook.

She had made quick friends with the girl from Ravenclaw, Luna Lovegood, and through her, Neville Longbottom. Neville had the worst memory she could think of, besides hers. Luna was eccentric, and that was why they got along so well. She just didn't think Luna's beliefs were well founded was all, and she pretended to be interested when she went into one of her rants about Gulping Plimpies or Flaming Dogs, or whatever she called them. She just thought they each had some things in common, and she spent a lot of her free time with either one or the other.

The other Gryffindors were highly suspicious of a Slytherin hanging out with a Gryffindor, but she took it in stride.

The exams were a week away, and the entire school could be seen in their free time studying their brains out. Saoirse didn't bother. Her study strategy was cram n' jam. She could never remember some things a week in advance. Five minutes before and she would. So she spent her free time down by the lake, thinking about this and that and reading a book. The one her father gave her had been finished the same week she received it.

One of these days, she was sitting on her favorite rock down by the lake when someone snuck up behind her and said, "Here you are."

Saoirse jumped and spun around, ready to defend herself. It was only Luna Lovegood, holding a roll of parchment and wearing nothing on her feet.

"Oh. Hi Luna. What's that?" asked Saoirse, pointing to the scroll.

"It's a letter for you, from Professor Dumbledore. What were you doing down here by the lake? Everyone knows there are Bloodsucking Plimfies down here," she said, moving her long, blonde hair out of her face. Saoirse ignored her comment and took the scroll. She snipped the red ribbon binding it with her wand and opened it. It said :

Ms. Snape,

I would like for you to come to my office when you receive this letter. I have important matters I wish to discuss with you.

Sincerely,

Professor Dumbledore, Headmaster.

"Hmm. I wonder what he wants," wondered Saoirse aloud.

"I don't know. Maybe he wants to talk to you about your powers!" she said brightly, smiling. The sun glinted off her Butterbeer cap necklace and a gust of wind blew, making both girl's hair blow into their faces.

"Well, I guess I'd better go. Wanna come with me?" offered Saoirse.

"No thank you. I told Neville Longbottom I'd help him study," she said.

"Oh. Cool. Seeya later Luna," said Saoirse, watching her go. She hung back for awhile, thinking.

Slughorn had continued giving her lessons to control her anger so her transformatons didn't get the better of her. Because of the potions, she was no longer sleepwalking, and her powers were as much under her conrol as they could be. There was no side affect of the Sleep potion. So what could Dumbledore want? Could it be her astral projection?

She got down off the rock, put her book in her back and made her way back up to the castle.

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"Come in," said Dumbledore's voice, after Saoirse knocked.

She opened the door and saw the boy she'd met in the library, Harry Potter. He looked at her odd when she walked in and Dumbledore said, "ah. Saoirse. Please, sit and wait one moment for me. Harry was just about to leave," he said politely.

Saoirse sat in the proferrred chair and waited, her school bag on her lap. She watched as Harry and Dumbledore finished talking, and Harry left, without a glance in her direction. She didn't care. She looked to the headmaster, who looked like a cross between Gandalf from Lord of the Rings and Merlin.

"You received my note from Miss Lovegood, I presume?" he asked.

"Yeah. Is it about my astral projection, sir?" she asked, twisting her hands on top of her bag.

"It is. Your father tells me that over the Christmas holidays, you demonstrated it for him, and very nearly brought his roof down," said Dumbledore amusedly.

"Eheh... yeah. I don't really have any control over my other half," she admitted, wishing she did.

"You are very right. No one who can astral project has control over their astral selves. It divides two seperate qualities of their personality. In your case, your humility from your anger and straightforwardness. Your father wishes me to help you better control your anger, as lessons with Professor Slughorn don't seem to be doing much," he explained.

Slightly ashamed, she lowered her gaze, but she felt gentle fingers on her face that slowly forced her to look back up again. When she looked, however, the headmaster was still standing behind his desk.

"Why are you so angry, Saoirse?" he asked, taking his seat.

"I dunno, sir," she said. She was lying; she knew perfectly well why she was always so angry. It had only began after her brother died. She couldn't find it in her heart to grieve. Instead, she had just been angry at her mother. For never being there, even though she was the one parent that was. For never telling her about her father. For not letting her use her magic around the house. (even though she did anyway.) For not believing in her when it mattered most and for not listening to her when she had a problem. She was beginning to hate her mother.

Dumbledore nodded, as if he had seen all this in her mind, and indeed, he may have, for she forgot to shield her thoughts. Getting angry made her weak, and she hated it. That made her even angrier.

She growled under her breath, glaring at the floor and wishing it a painful death. She felt the change begin before she was even aware of it. Her anger embraced it immediately, and her rational side was powerless, even without the side affects of the pills she took. She turned into a tiger, bursting her clothes off and growing shaggy, white and black fur.

She broke the chair she was sitting in and it shattered, driving a splinter into her side. She roared in pain, and focused on the old man in front of her. She growled, and the man raised a wand and the next thing she knew, she was blasted into the opposite wall, human and completely naked. She'd been forced to transform back into a human, so she couldn't focus on clothing.

Blushing furiously, she grabbed the nearest thing she could (which was a curtain) and draped it around as much skin as she could. She hoped none of the portraits in the office spread this around the school. Her father would be very angry at her for losing control again. She had almost attacked the Headmaster! What was wrong with her!

"My apologies, but I feared you were about to pounce. If you would get dressed," he said, waving his wand and repairing her clothes, "we can continue my lesson," he finished. He turned his back and instructed the portraits to do the same. Only after making sure each and every one of them really had their backs turned, Saoirse self conciously got re-dressed, still blushing like mad, and wishing she could stop.

"Alright," she said quietly, and Dumbledore and the portraits of the past headmasters and mistresses turned around again.

Dumbledore sat back down, pointed his wand at the broken chair, repaired it, and said, "please, sit." She did, painfully aware of what had just happened and increasingly thankfull Luna and Neville hadn't seen it. They'd never talk to her again, and she had no other friends.

"Saoirse, I'll ask again. Why are you so angry?" asked Dumbledore. She sighed.

"My mother," she growled. She explained the whole thing to Dumbledore, and at some points, a couple portraits nodded in understanding or just listened. When she was done, she felt a little better, but she couldn't help feeling like her problems were now on the shoulders of another.

Dumbledore took a moment to think, his head resting on his tented fingers.

"Anger makes even the best of people weak and irrational, Saoirse, as I'm sure you've figured out by now, with brains like yours. Your life experiences are enough to make anyone angry. You must understand that getting angry at someone for mistakes made in the past can do nothing to alter the present-"

"- I know that, sir," Saoirse interrupted.

Dumbledore continued.

"-Can do nothing to alter the present _without talking to your anger_," he finished, unperturbed.

Saoirse thought about it for a moment, and thought she understood.

"Talk to my mom?" she guessed, but she already knew the answer was yes. Dumbledore smiled and nodded.

"If she will not listen, make her listen. You must somehow let her know why you are angry with her," Dumbledore explained.

"But she purposefully forgets what she doesn't want to remember. How am I gonna make her listen?" Saoirse complained.

It was true. A week after her brother's simple funeral, her mother went on with life as if it'd never happened. She'd never talked to anyone about her brother's death because no one had listened. Her mother refused to even acknowledge Surk's name anymore, Saoirse thought bitterly. Her problem was, she just didn't want to deal with pain. Her hatred deepened. Life includes pain, how _dare_ her mother pretend it didn't exist?!

"Please, get your anger out now, Saoirse. I will listen if your mother will not. Perhaps it'll make you feel better," offered Dumbledore. Saoirse tried, but could not. She wouldn't be responsible for hurting anyone if she got out of control. Slughorn had taught her controlive breathing exercises, but they didn't seem to work. Dumbledore was right. The only way she could get rid of this was by confronting her mother and grieving her dead brother at last.

"I think I should go, sir. I have a class next," she excused herself. Dumbledore got up at last and handed her a small, leatherbound book.

"Perhaps this will help," he said, his blue eyes twinkling. She took it. It was titled _problems with powers_ by an Orion B. Hodge. She thanked him, put it in her bag and left his office. The moment she closed the door, she heard one of the portraits say, "I've never seen one girl so angry... or so powerful. She could be dangerous, Dumbledore."

Saoirse stomped to her Defense Against the Dark Arts class. Maybe her father could help her.

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When she arrived, however, her father seemed to be in a towering rage. His voice was quieter than ever and he sounded ready to kill. Saoirse figured she could wait.

After the class, (which was how to fend off Redcaps) she approached her father, who was bent low over his desk, grading papers, and cleared her throat. He looked up at her, ready to snap, but saw who it was, and his face softened slightly.

"You seemed pissed all through the lesson. What's wrong?" she asked.

"I just received a letter. From your mother," he said shortly, throwing a piece of lined paper at her. She took it and read it.

"Severus,

I just wanted to write and say I got home okay (as if you cared) and that I want Saoirse to come home for the summer. If she refuses, tell her I said so, and if she doesn't come, I'll call the Magical Law Enforcement and have you arrested. She is my daughter and I'll say who she spends the summer with.

Love,

Loren"

Saoirse tore the letter angril in two and set it on fire with her wand. It curled up and burned, leaving grey ashes on her father's desk.

"I'm beginning to hate her," she said through gritted teeth. She told him all about her appointment with Dumbledore and he listened.

When she was done, her father set his papers aside and looked at her intently.

"You understand that if you stay with me for the summer, you'll have to stay at home," he said, giving her a calculable look.

She returned the look, delving deep into his dark brown eyes, and saw him among the other Death Eaters, and one horribly disfigured man with slits for a nose. She got an immediate sense of danger and looked away, stopping her legilimensy.

"I understand. I still want to stay here," she said firmly.

"It is your choice and yours alone. Your mother cannot control you anymore. You're an adult. I'll let you make your own decision," he agreed. The look in his eyes was hard to read. Saoirtse imagined herself going back home to the states for the summer, three unbearably hot, rainy months. It took her all of three seconds to decide she would rather spend it in England than Florida.

Lemme borrow your quill," she said. Snape gave her his quill and a piece of parchment and began writing as fast as the nib would allow without splintering.

Mom,

Under no circumstances am I coming home for the summer holiday. I want to stay with dad and there's nothing you can do to stop me. I'm an adult now, and I'm making my own life decisions. It's time to take my life into my own hands. This is the life I choose, to fight the Dark Lord. I will be safe.

Saoirse.

She set the quill down and blew on the ink so it would dry, then rolled it up.

"I'm staying, if it's ok with you," she said. Snape smiled and nodded, taking his quill back.

"Of course. While I'm away on Dumbledore's orders, my only request is for you to stay in the house and never let anyone in, under any circumstances. I will have a certain answer for a certain question you will create, in case someone impersonates me. If you get bored, take the tunnel under my house to Salazara and stay in the pub we got those shakes in, and keep your face hidden. Do you understand?" he asked.

Saoirse nodded, and began thinking of a question. She asked it, and Snape smiled and answered.

"No. I am the Half-Blood Prince." Her question was: Do you care about purity of blood? They both smiled and Saoirse left for her lunch break, in which she might throw the books away and actually study for once.

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The exams loomed over the heads of all the students, and on her very first one, Saoirse answered every question right and demonstrated proper spell use for every examiner. At the end of the day, she, Luna, Neville and Harry Potter and his friends, Hermione Granger and Ron Weasley. The bushy haired girl sat under the tree reading a book, Ron poked at the giant squid and Harry lay on his back in the grass and stared at the clouds. Luna read a copy of The Quibbler and Neville and Saoirse were both comparing drawings of their favorite mythical creatures; dragons.

The other Slytherins couldn't help but notice the oldest Slytherin hanging out with the Ravenclaw and the Gryffindors. Draco Malfoy, in particular sat under the opposite tree whispering mutinous somethings into the ear of his cronie, Gregory Goyle.

"What're you doing for the summer, Saoirse?" asked Neville.

Saoirse shrugged. If her father's orders were top secret, she'd better make something up.

"I'm staying in the Leaky Cauldron. I don't feel like going back to the States just yet," she lied.

"The Leaky Cauldron?" asked Harry Potter.

"Yeah. Why?" she intoned, raising an eyebrow. The Potter boy shrugged and went back to staring at the clouds.

"I rather liked this year," said Ginny Weasley, sitting down next to Harry. Saoirse guessed they were going out. She was pretty, with brown eyes and long orange-red hair. Saoirse flipped her own bright blue locks over her shoulder and added scales to her dragon.

"Saoirse, what does your dad do when he's not teaching?" asked Luna. Saoirse got a little defensive.

"I can't tell you that. Sorry," she said, not looking up. Luna did not press the subject.

"He does Death Eater work on Dumbledore's orders," piped up Harry Potter. Saoirse sighed and said nothing.

"Is it true?" asked Neville.

"I don't know. I have to go. Seeya, Luna, Nevile... Harry, Ron, Hermione, Ginny," she said, stowing her paper and quill into her bag and walking off. On her way, she passed one of the Aurors guarding the school, Mad-Eye Moody, but all he did was watch her.

She went up into her dormitory, stared at the bleak walls that mimicked running water, and drew her green velvet hangings around her.

She lay back on her bed and did not protest when she dozed off and fell asleep.

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The End of Term Feast brought the most sumptuous dinner Saoirse had ever had. The Slytherin table in particular included some definitely American dishes, including one of hamburgers and french fries. Saoirse ate only the fries and ignore people watchign her eat her "greasy American food". She wasn't fat, so they couldn't hit her with the stereotypes.

Dumbledore stood up and clapped his hands for silence.

The end of another year, and before you all go to the train and go home, I must warn you all. Lord Voldemort is more of a threat now than he ever was, and I cannot tell you enough how careful you must be. Enjoy your feast, and go home and be safe, and we will see you next year. Tuck in!" he said, and the Hall apllauded.

They all ate, and by the time Saoirse had her trunk all packed, she vanished it to Spinner's End to wait for her there. She hung back while the school hurried out to the Hogwarts express and waited for her father to join her. He made a motion, as if she should go without him while he talked to Dumbledore.

Saoirse nodded, walked outside, bypassed the train station in Hogsmeade and Apparated to her home for the next three months.

She was still angry with her mother, but her decision was made. She would stay with her father and do what she could to help kill the Dark Lord. She would have to deal with her problems little by little one step of the way.

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THE END.

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Please review!!! There will be a sequel!!!!


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